


Cold Feet

by egberts, pimpdaddydstride



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Drama, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Wedding Night, there is a blowjob in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-03 20:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1755785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egberts/pseuds/egberts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pimpdaddydstride/pseuds/pimpdaddydstride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a perfectly logical explanation to why you're sitting at a bar in the middle of nowhere instead of standing at the altar with your fiance. Really there is.</p><p>Bonus chapters to come!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i got the initial idea for this from a country song i heard in the car with my dad and i told my girlfriend about it and she was like "NO no no no we will not do that to john and dave" but i was like "haha yeah we will" so i did it. sorry in advance for typos and things i reread each chapter before posting but mistakes happen. also pardon the short chapters i tried to get them each at least 1,000 words but there may be some shorter ones depending. ALSO also it might be kinda bad because i started this at like 4 in the morning so sorry for that too lmao

“I can’t do it Rose; I can’t go through with it.” Your voice is barely a whisper, trying not to wake the person sleeping next to you.

“Hang on, slow down, John. Can’t do what?” Rose’s voice sounds foggy and confused, probably from you having just woke her up.

“The wedding! Rose, the wedding, I can’t do it.” Panic set in about three hours ago. You’ve been restless and lying awake since.

“John, you’re getting married in less than twelve hours, you can’t be having second thoughts _now._ ” Her tone changed from tired to worried almost instantaneously.

“I’m not… I’m not having second thoughts I just… I can’t get… I…” The words you want won’t come. Your mouth is dry despite the fact you’ve been sipping water for the last thirty minutes.

“It’s probably your nerves, John. Just a little bit of pre-wedding jitters, no reason to call the whole thing off.” She assures.

“Right, right.” You nod, she can’t see you, but it was more to comfort yourself than anything. “I’m just nervous. That’s all. It’ll be…” A sharp exhale escapes your lips. “It’ll be alright.”

Rose yawns. “Get some sleep, okay? You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Yeah, thanks Rose.” You hang up. Swallow hard. She’s wrong. It’s not pre-wedding nerves. You’ve been nervous before and the things you are currently feeling, those aren’t nerves.

You look over your shoulder at the one you’re to wed in less than half a day. He sleeps like a rock, which makes you laugh. If he’d been sneaking around on the phone at three am frantic about your wedding, you’d have known. Chances are, though, he doesn’t have a clue. You stand up from the bed as silently as you can. Packing would be too noisy so you just grab your phone charger and one change of clothes.

Your name is John Egbert and you’re about to leave your fiancé on the night before the wedding. Not because you don’t like him, no. In fact, you love him. You love him more than anything, more than all your worldly possessions and more than yourself. You’d probably die for him, but you can’t marry him. Your stomach is in knots as you shut the hotel room door behind you. You love him too much to marry him.

What if he isn’t happy? What if he doesn’t love you like he says he does? What if being married just makes him feel trapped? What if, what if, what if? Questions are circling through your brain at 100,000 miles per hour. You don’t want Dave to be unhappy or feel trapped by marrying you.

But that’s silly! He proposed to you! He asked _you_ to marry him! Why on Earth would he feel trapped? You’re not sure. But you feel like… maybe he would? You don’t want to give up your love… your… life with Dave just for a wedding. You’ve seen the strongest of relationships crumble after marriages. You’ve seen people ripped apart and put at each other’s throat by divorce, your own parents included. You can’t put Dave through that.

So instead, you leave. You bail out. Couldn’t take the heat so you got out of the kitchen. No big deal right? It’ll blow over. You can resume your happy, normal, non-wed life with Dave. First, though, you have to get the hell out of Dodge before the wedding starts. Rose is wrong. This isn’t nerves. It’s something else entirely. Something you don’t want to feel, so instead of hanging around and letting the feelings eat you from the inside out, you take those feelings and you dump them aside.

No wedding no feelings, right? No permanent long term commitment for Dave, if he’s unhappy then he can leave. He won’t be trapped by you. You don’t want him to feel trapped.

All these things, stupid petty reassuring things, you let them play on repeat in your head; as you get in the taxi, as you drive to the airport, as you purchase a plane ticket, as you board the plane, all you hear over and over is yourself. Your petty excuses. Get out, get out, get out John, get out. Don’t trap him. Don’t suffocate him. He doesn’t love you. Do you really love him?

_Of course you love him._

You’re certain you love him, that’s why you’re desperate to distance yourself from him. But is this really love? You’re leaving him on the night before you’re supposed to be married. The night you and he were to be bonded for the rest of your lives. But that’s just it! What if he changes his mind? What if the rest of your lives is just _too long_?

Dave has never been the most patient of people, does he really _really_ want to marry you? Does he realize what he’s getting into? You have asthma and buck teeth and allergies and a weird sounding voice and you play piano at four in the morning and you have weird eating habits and a fondness for things Dave hates. Why would he want to marry you? He says he loves you but when you pull back and look at the big picture, how could he?

How can Dave Strider love you if you don’t love yourself? If you don’t have enough confidence in yourself to go back to that hotel, get back in bed with him, and be married tomorrow like you’re meant to. You’ve convinced yourself you’re doing this for him, you’re leaving for his own good, but a small part of you nags and nags about how _selfish_ you are because you’re leaving for you. Because you don’t want your own feelings hurt when one day Dave just decides to leave you. Yeah, he asked you to marry him, but he can also ask to be divorced from you. You’ve talked yourself both ways in this situation, and it’s too late to go back. You’re hundreds of miles away now. Dave will be waking up soon to an empty bed and you have to keep telling yourself it’s for his own good. Because it is. Right?

Your name is John Egbert and you have cold feet.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The sun is peeking in through the curtains, shining onto your bed. You groan a little and roll over, extending your arm with full intention to grab the one you love and pull him into a hug. Your arm falls onto empty space. You pat the bed beside you a few times before finally pulling the blankets off and sitting up. “John?” You question the thin air next to you. Huh, he’s not here.

You get out of bed and stretch a little. “John?” You question again, approaching the bathroom, giving the door a light tap. “John, you in there?”

No answer.

When you try the bathroom handle, to no surprise, it’s unlocked. “Huh, wonder where he is.” The situation isn’t too alerting, sometimes John got up early to go for a run or get breakfast. It is a bit odd, though, considering you and he are meant to be married in… in..

You glance at your watch.

_Holy shit._

You’re getting married in six hours. You were supposed to be up ages ago. Why didn’t John wake you? He’s obviously up and about? You shake your head and splash cold water from the faucet on your face. Six hours. Wow. In six hours you and John will officially be Mr. and Mr. Strider-Egbert, or Egbert-Strider, however John wants it.

You rub your chin, contemplating shaving, but decide against it. You’re not too stubbly, nobody will notice. Except maybe John when you kiss at the altar, but you’re sure you’ll both be too excited for him to mind. Speaking of John being excited though, where is he? His tux is still hanging on the hanger in the plastic, so he hasn’t gone to get ready without you. His shoes, you notice, now that you’ve had a look around, are missing. So he’s out. You’ll call him, find out what he’s up to.

It rings. And rings. And rings. Nothing. You stare at your phone as if it has personally offended you, and then try again. Nothing. Third times the char- what? Now his phone is off. Was he ignoring your calls on purpose? No, no he couldn’t be. This is John. He wouldn’t ignore your phone calls on your wedding day, of all days, would he? Of course not! His phone probably just died, no big deal. You’ll try him later, maybe he’ll show up before then.

So you toss your phone on the bed and grab a quick shower, hopeful that when you’re done John will be back. But he isn’t, and now you’re starting to get worried.

You do shave after all, and put on some really great smelling aftershave. John would be proud of you, if he were here. He always was persnickety about cleanliness. That boy showered every day, for at least twenty minutes, sometimes twice a day. You, on the other hand, could go a day or two without a shower and when you finally came round to getting one you usually popped in and popped right out. Today was an exception though; your shower lasted a little bit longer than the usual five minutes. But you’re getting off topic here, where _is_ John?

Rose will know, John tells her everything. Shoot, maybe he’s just over at her hotel room getting advice or something. You’re just overreacting.

“Hello?”

“Rose!” You exclaim. Usually you would not be so expressive to her, as per the Strider-Lalonde tradition, but it’s your wedding day, cut yourself some slack. “Rose, have you seen John? I woke up and he was gone.”

She’s silent for a moment. Longer than a moment. Finally after what seems like an eternity of empty phone static she speaks, “One second, Dave.” The line goes dead. She hung up on you. Maybe to call John? You feel uneasy though, Rose’s silence was discomforting. Did she know something, where John was?

Five minutes go by, she still hasn’t called back.

Twenty.

You’re getting anxious. Now you know something is wrong, it has to be.

You begin pacing.

Running your hands through your hair.

Biting your lip.

Your chest feels like there’s a pile of books on it.

What if John left? What if he doesn’t want to marry you? What if he doesn’t love you? You thought he did. He said yes. Right? He… Wanted to marry you. You were sure, weren’t you? So where was he? Why did he disappear? What did Rose know? Why were you suddenly doubting your entire relationship based off John being AWOL for no more than a few hours. You’re being ridiculous. Everything is _fine._ John is probably just with Rose and they’re-

Your phone is ringing. You’re so anxious you don’t even take the time to appreciate your incredibly obnoxious yet completely ironic ringtone. “Rose?!”

“Dave.” Her tone is stern, sterner than usual, but there’s a hint of.. sorrow? She waits a moment before speaking again. “Dave, I think John may have...” She exhales. “He called me last night and told me he was afraid to go through with the wedding, that he couldn’t do it.” Another pause. “I told him…” She sounds like she’s having a hard time getting this out, which is strange for her. “I told him it was just pre-wedding nerves, that he’d be fine.”

“And?” You ask, almost frantically.

“And nothing, he said okay and hung up. But now nobody has seen him and his phone is off.” She pauses again, for a long time, before finally finding the right words. “I think he may have left, Dave. I think he had cold feet so he left.”

You could feel the colour drain from your face. Your breathing was slow, steady, sad. You barely manage to mumble out an “O-okay.. Rose.” Before letting the phone slip out of your hand. In any other situation, even the most heartbreaking ones, you’d fight off the onset of emotions with bad metaphors and ironic humor, but you didn’t think you could do that now. You didn’t think you could do much of anything, you just felt kind of… well numb, really.

John left you? The night before your wedding? Without so much as a goodbye? He just…

You sink to your knees and cup your face in your hands. You don’t cry. You never cry. In your entire life you can only think of two times that you’ve really _really_ let loose and cried. The first time was six years ago. It was late August and you’d already known John for years, you grew up together. But this particular mild August day was different than any other day you’d spent with John Egbert …


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time for some flashbacks

“This is it Dave!” John spun in a circle, his arms spread wide. “Our senior year!” A small smirk fell upon your lips. He let his arms drop to his sides and took a seat beside you. “Aren’t you excited? Our last year of high school! We’re finally gonna get out of this crapshack and go places!”

“Places like?”

He shrugged, “Well,” Several vague hand gestures, “You know, _places._ Rome! Let’s go to Rome, Dave! Just out of high school, barely enough money to get by, what better way to waste our young lives than Rome!”

“Rome?” You laugh. He nods enthusiastically. “Anywhere in the world, you could’ve picked anywhere, and you chose Rome.”

“Pizza, Dave, Pizza.” He puts up a good argument. Rome probably has some hella fine pizza, so you’ll give him that. “But not just Rome, Dave! Why not all of Europe? Like those cliché white kids from those hipster movies you love so much.” A playful smile spreads across his face and you give him a shove.

“I’ll have you know, Egbert, I am one of those cliché white kids.”

He nods. “I know, but you’re my cliché white kid.”

“Thanks.” You monotone.

He playfully pinches your cheek and leans over onto your shoulder. You’d been friends forever; things like personal space didn’t really matter. “In all seriousness though, you have to be at least a little excited.”

“Alright, maybe a little.” You pinch your forefinger and thumb together on one hand. “This much.”

“Good enough for me!” He sits up and throws his arms in the air. “So what do you say then, Mr. Dave Strider, should we get this show on the road?”

You shrug. He takes it as a yes and grabs your hand to pull you to your feet. You don’t protest. You can tell he’s actually nervous, covering it up with false excitement. John probably was excited to some level – excited that today marked the start of the end of the hell he called high school. He was never exactly popular, he had braces until last year, asthma, he was the entire reason the school couldn’t serve peanut butter sandwiches at lunch anymore, he was probably the best singer in the entire school and always got the solos at music concerts – he thought his voice was weird and wouldn’t listen to reason otherwise. Long story short, he was on a lot of people’s list of people who probably ruined their high school experience to some level.

Frankly you didn’t think he was that bad. He was funny, smart, cute, talented, and probably one of the nicest dudes you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing (even if he cocked an attitude sometimes that could put Raven Symone to shame). Too bad he didn’t think he was all that great. He was really shy, scared he’d piss somebody off and wind up the joke of the school for the next two weeks. It happened a lot. More often than you’d like.

You must’ve got lost in your thoughts because next thing you know John is snapping his fingers in your face. “Dave, yo, earth to Strider.”

You blink a few times to clear your head. “Huh? Sorry, what?” He hands you a piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“Your schedule, numbnuts.” Okay, so you’d probably never tell him this, but you think it is the most adorable thing ever when he rolls his eyes. His shocking blue.. shiny.. eyes. You sigh without meaning to and he raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry, sorry, just…” You make a vague notion with your hands. “Eugh.”

“I feel that.” He laughs. “What classes do you have?”

Right, classes. School. That’s a great reason to eugh. At least today was a half day, well to be fair today was also the first day. Gotta love August, right? School comes back and… well that’s about it. School sucks.

You glance down at your paper. “Nothing exciting.”

“Well let me see!” He snatches it back from you. Rude, he just gave you that. His eyes scan the paper and he shakes his head and hands it back. “We only have three classes together this year.”

“Aw man, that sucks, how will I go on without seeing your goofy looking face constantly throughout the day.” He shoves you and you laugh.

“I am not _that_ goofy looking!”

“Keep telling yourself that, bro, maybe one day if you believe hard enough it’ll be true. Fairies are real, Peter Pan, fairies are real and so are weird alligators that like to stalk pirates.” He gives you a sort of confused look and you ruffle his hair. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand these adult jokes.”

“You’re talking about Peter Pan, Dave.”

“And? This is a very mature subject matter, so mature in fact I don’t even think I should talk about it within twenty feet of you; fear I might corrupt your sweet innocent perception on life. The young boyish outlooks you so graciously bestow upon the world.” You’re trying your hardest to remain as monotone as possible, the looks he’s giving you make it hard.

“I’m going to class.”

“Joykill!” You call behind him as he begins to walk away. “John McJoykill, killer of joy. Destroyer of fun!” He flips you off from over his shoulder and keeps walking, God you love that kid.

So the day goes on. You get all your rules and information and text books and every other damned thing you’ll need to squeak by in this year of high school. You have three classes with John, just as he said. English, gym, and music. Good. You’re glad about the last one. You like to hear him sing. The first one is alright too, John’s good at English, he has the makings of a writer, so you take up seat behind him with full intentions of copying his work all year if possible. Gym though. Oh man, gym. Gym is probably John’s least favourite thing to do in school ever. You chalk it up to his asthma but you’ve never actually asked him why he hates it so much, you make a mental note to do so later.

The school day ends after what feels like an eternity. This was just the first day, too. Oh man this year is gonna suck. You meet up with John outside by your truck, it’s old and smelly and rusty, but it gets you from point A to point B so you don’t complain much. “Egbert.” You nod coolly as you walk past, to the driver’s side. “Where to today, sir?” You ask as you learn over to open the passenger door for him. It doesn’t open from the outside because of a wonky handle.

“Take me somewhere fabulous.” He fakes a dramatic accent.

“Rome?” You question with a smirk.

He replies with a sweet smile and clicks his seatbelt. “Rome sounds fabulous.”

“Rome it is.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said, the queen of short chapters

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t Rome, but it was the best you can do and all you could afford. It doesn’t matter anyway; John seems to be enjoying himself. And apparently a pizza parlor on 27th Street is the next best thing to Rome in John’s book, anyway. He’s been laughing a lot today, you can’t tell if it’s because he’s actually happy or he’s just covering up for a shitty first day of school. Hopefully the first.

He’s halfway through his third slice of pizza when he stops and gasps, “Dave, I just got an idea.” Oh dear.

“Oh?” You inquire. “That’s never good.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up asshole, I’m serious.”

“Well then let’s hear this serious idea.”

“Alright,” He inhales deeply, and that’s how you can tell this is going to be a crock of shit. He always overplays his lame ideas and underplays his great ones. You know he does it on purpose though, so you don’t mind. “We should….” He pauses for dramatic effect. Here it comes, another one of John Egbert’s awful terrible ideas. “Go to the park.”

And there it was, “The park?” You snort. “First you make me take you _all_ the way to Rome, then you wanna go to the park? Jesus, kid, you’re needy.” He knows you’re joking and kicks you from under the table. “Ow, jeez! Alright, we’ll see if I can pencil it in, I’m a busy man.”

“Oh yeah?” He humors you, “Busy? Busy with what exactly?”

“Oh you know, stuff… things… So busy, John.”

He nods thoughtfully, “Right, right, well I’d sure hate to keep you from your stuff…”

“And things.” You chime in. He nods again and strokes his chin thoughtfully. “But like I said, I can try to pencil you in.” You look at your wrist as if you’re looking at a watch even though you don’t have one. “Is four o’clock good for you?”

He mimics your watchless gesture. “Hmmm, I’m in a meeting right now and it might run a little long, but four should be alright.”

“Wow, what a weird coincidence, I am also in a meeting right now.” He smiles when you say that. “It’s almost as if we’re in the same meeting or something.”

“Just shut up and eat your pizza you nerd!”

Now you gasp, “So rude! Maybe we _won’t_ go to the park after all. Teach you a thing or two about manners.”

“If anyone here needs a lesson in manners it’s you. You slouch, chew with your mouth open, don’t always cover your mouth when you cough, you pick your nose in public when you think nobody is looking – trust me, somebody is always looking. I could go on and on about you and your bad manners.” He laughs, he’s just joking and you know it so you take no offense. Especially since you’re aware all of those things are true.

“Yeah? I could go on and on about you too.” You say proudly.

“Oh really? Well let’s hear it then, tell me about myself.” He challenges.

“Well firstly, you always smell like spearmint for some reason, your hair is probably the softest thing I’ve ever touched, you dress really badly but I find it endearingly cute, you hum when you’re trying to concentrate, you constantly lick your teeth because you’re still not used to being without braces, you clap when you laugh sometimes, you curl your toes when you’re cold, you put ketchup on scrambled eggs like some kind of monster, you wear the same pair of pants every single Friday, I still haven’t figured out why, the brand of deodorant you buy makes you smell like an old man, a very cute short old man, and for some reason you have the bluest eyes in the entire world and I can’t for the life of me figure out why I love looking at them. Should I go on?” He blinks at you for a second, like you’ve confused him somehow. “What? What are you staring at?”

“Holy shit, Dave.”

“What?” You repeat.

“Nothing nothing, you just notice all those little things about me?” His tone is less playful now and more.. uh more… well you can’t put your finger on what it is now but he sounds kind of fascinated, maybe?

“You bet your sweet ass I do,” You nod firmly. “I notice a lot of things about a lot of people, but I notice things about you the most.” This is like some weird fucked up best friend love confession. You’re trying to handle it coolly and so far it’s working. So far.

“Why…?” His big ol’ blue eyes are bouncing around all over your face looking for answers.

“Well, usually, Johnathan, when somebody takes the time to pick out and recognize every small thing another person does it means they lo..” Your throat locks up. Abort, abort.

You weren’t ready to do this.

Oh fuck, you’re in too deep.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He’s staring at you, waiting for you to finish.

He knows what you’re going to say. You know what you’re going to say. The whole damn world knows what you’re going to say.

But you can’t say it.

So you stare at John with your mouth hanging open ever so slightly and your head swirling. It feels like hours, but then John opens his mouth.

“Your breath always smells like cinnamon, and for the longest time I’ve wanted to know if it tastes like it to. You have the softest hands in the world, which is fitting because you’re a total softy. You still subconsciously flip your hair out of your eyes even though your hair hasn’t been long enough to be in your eyes since sophomore year. You tap your foot to ambient noises in public, like cars, birds, and busses. You whistle while you cook, badly I might add, but what you lack in the ability to whistle you make up for in..” He shrugs. “In being one of the greatest people I know, you’re funny, nice, smart,  and whenever you try to do or say anything heartfelt you freeze up.”

You could feel your bottom lip trembling and you weren’t exactly sure why but John was about to make you cry? You never cry. You’re Dave motherfucking Strider. You don’t cry. You don’t even think about crying.

The table you’re at slides forward a little when John stands up and leans over it, he’s short, but thankfully not short enough to not be able to reach you from the other side. He places his hands on the center of the table to keep from falling and leans forward and kisses you.

Drip.

He pulls out of the kiss after just a couple seconds, leaving you kind of dumbfounded and wishing you would’ve kissed back.

Drop.

“Usually, David, when somebody takes the time to notice every little thing another person does it means they love them.”

Drip.

He lifts one hand off the table, keeping the other one there for balance, and brings his thumb to your cheek (slightly pushing up your glasses in the process) and rubs the tears off of it.

You were Dave Strider, you never cried.

So what… what were you doing right now?

Drop.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to the present for this chapter

There is a perfectly logical explanation to why you're sitting at a bar in the middle of nowhere instead of standing at the altar with your fiancé. Really there is. Well, you thought there was. Now you aren’t so sure. Dave and you should’ve been married two hours ago, but instead you’re across the country; ignoring your problems, arguing with yourself about why you left, and making up excuse after excuse about why you shouldn’t go back.

At the same time, though, you were trying to find reasons _to_ go back. You felt disgusted with yourself. You hated yourself, more so than normal. You left him there, Dave; you left him alone in a hotel room in the middle of San Diego. You chose San Diego because of the zoo and aquarium. Dave’s brother had connections, big connections apparently. He pulled some strings and you and Dave got exclusive access to be wed _in_ the aquarium.

You loved fish, you loved aquariums. Dave? Not so much. But he knew how much you loved them. He always poked fun at you in college because your major was Marine Biology. You told him the two of you would live near the sea when you got older. He never questioned it. Sure he joked about it, about how you’d live near the sea if you could ever get out of that damn apartment in Seattle.

Against all of Dave’s negative jokes, though, you did get out. After both of you graduated college you got out. Dave insisted that you relocate to Texas but you did not want to deal with the heat and also the dust and cows. Well, you’d never actually been to Texas but if it was anything like you thought it was like, you didn’t wanna be there.

So then Dave suggested New York, apparently his cousin Rose lived there, she’d made a pretty sustainable life for herself as a therapist – even though she was only barely older than you and Dave. She let the two of you stay in her pool house until you could get your own place. It wasn’t easy, two twenty-two year olds trying to save for a place of their own while simultaneously paying off college debts. It was not easy at all.

Harder for you than for Dave, though. He got almost a full scholarship for music production and writing, you on the other hand didn’t get a scholarship. Who the hell cared if some kid who was good at science went to their college? Apparently nobody. All colleges want are the art students and the athletes. So you took out loans. Loans and loans and loans. Leaving you in a pretty substantial amount of debt. Dave swore up and down the debt was yours to share; you didn’t argue but silently disagreed instead.

That was another reason you couldn’t marry him. The debt. If the two of you got married, all your debts would legally be his. Sure, he was well off now. He found his footing in New York, started DJing at first, got noticed by a record company, got hired. Started working in a studio, helping with sound quality, writing, producing. He never got to do the real big up front stuff, after all he was just hired help, but soon he started talking about owning his own record label. He dreamed big, he swore he’d produce music for the biggest stars; he’d even make some music of his own. He asked you if you would sing for him when he finally got his own place. You told him yes, you were probably lying.

You shake your head, clear it of all the thoughts of the past, and tap the bar to get the bar tenders attention. He nods at you and fills your glass again. Your vision was starting to get a little blurry and your hands a little tingly, but you fucked up and you knew it, it was too late to fix the problem so instead you were drinking your sorrows away. You’d shut off your phone some time ago, when Dave tried calling. You couldn’t face him. You couldn’t tell him you left for his own good, he’d think you were full of shit, he wouldn’t understand your reasoning.

Then again….

You didn’t really understand your reasoning, did you? If you loved him _so_ much, why? Why up and vanish the night before your wedding. You couldn’t make any sense of what compelled you to do it, but you knew it was the right thing to do. Dave… he…

He didn’t _need_ you. You were holding him back. Your debts, they would’ve held him back. He had dreams, big, wonderful dreams, and you were in his way. He couldn’t take off with an obligation at home and debts to pay that weren’t his. He couldn’t find his footing with you there for him to worry about. It was for the best. You left for a good reason; you’d go back to him. You’d just be boyfriends. You don’t have to be married to love him.

But after what you did.. would he love you? Haha, of course he would, all you did was ruin the most important day of his life. The day he asked you for. The day he set aside in his heart just for you and him. You took that from him. He proposed to you in public like a babbling idiot, mentally preparing for this day months in advance, he wanted to marry you.

_But you didn’t want to marry him._

There, you said it. You didn’t want to marry Dave. No more beating around the bush. You loved him and you wanted the best for him – and you weren’t the best for him. You knew you weren’t, he knew you weren’t, every damn person on the Earth knew you weren’t. And you didn’t want to marry him.

And now that you were thinking about it, did you ever really want to? Even when he proposed… you hesitated… You fought with yourself in your mind. Everything that’s going through your head now went through your head then, only then you didn’t have the courage to say no. You guess you still don’t have that courage, seeing as you left with no explanation.

“Maybe,” You sigh, and get the bar tenders attention again. He responds and fills your glass. “Maybe I should’ve just said no when he asked in the first place…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another flashback

Dave was bad at lying. Really bad. He was jittery all day. You noticed. He swore up and down nothing was wrong, he was just a little on edge, no sweat. But you knew better, he was up to something, you just couldn’t figure out what. You made a mental note of the date in your head, it was January so your birthday wasn’t close. There were no other significant holidays you could think of. Your anniversary? No that’s August. Was Dave pregnant? Okay let’s be logical for a second here, John. Dave is not pregnant. Stop getting so worked up.

So you stop. You don’t worry about it; if something was wrong Dave would tell you. You put your feet up on the couch and clicked on the TV. Of course, as most doctors would say, this was bad. You watched waaaay too much television, but you didn’t have a book to read and honestly you were just too lazy to go get your laptop. What about your phone? You glance over to the kitchen table, your phone placed upon it. Damn.

TV it is then.

You start to dose off, watching some stupid sitcom on a broadcast station, when you’re jolted awake by a sudden weight on your legs. It’s Dave.  He moves so silently like some kind of well-trained ninja, or something. You let out a squeak of surprise and he laughs and leans over from your lap to your face and plants one on you. He pulls back from the kiss with a big smile.

“You’re happy.” You note.

“Sure am,” He kicks his feet up onto the coffee table and interlocks his fingers behind his head, not bothering to get up off your lap.

“Do you wanna tell me why?” You raise an eyebrow

Just as quickly as he assumed his position, he’s out of it. He practically jumped up and threw his arms in the air. “I would _love_ to tell you why, Egbert. Love it. But,” He clicks his tongue, “Buuuut, I can’t.” You wrinkle up your nose and give him a sort of ‘are you serious’ look, he just smiles in return. “Just trust me okay,” He pauses and rubs his chin. “How about dinner?”

“Oh,” You start to sit up, pointing at the kitchen, “I was just gonna make some pork chops and stuffi-”

“Nope!” He stops you, “We’re going out. Wear something nice. Be ready by seven.”

Oh okay. So you put those pork chops out to thaw for nothing. Man, Dave really must be up to something he never passes on pork chops. You finish standing up and give him a suspicious look all the way into the kitchen. He just returns your look, again, with a knowing smile.

“You’re up to something,” You say, putting the pork chops in the fridge, you figure you can just have them tomorrow.

“What on Earth makes you say that?” He hums.

“The way you’re acting.” You narrow your eyes at him. He just laughs.

“How am I acting, John? I’m shocked and offended that you of all people would question my motives _just_ because I appear to be in a really good mood.”

You roll your eyes. “So what’s got you in such a good mood, then?”

“Ah, but that’s the secret, isn’t it?” He hums again; he was being very _very_ cryptic. You didn’t like it, but if Dave Strider had a secret, you knew from experience you’d never get it out of him. So you just give him your _suspicious glare of death_ , or so he calls it, but all it earns you in return is more smiles.

“Something nice!” He reminds you and leaves the room. Oh he was definitely up to something, you just didn’t know what.

So you do as you’re told, you dig through the closet and your dresser drawers to find something nice, it looks like Dave had already done the same considering how disorganize everything was. You’d narrowed it down to he was taking you to a fancy restaurant for some reason. You’d ruled out birthdays, holidays, and special occasions of every kind.

Maybe he was just doing it to be nice?

Hah! Ha ha hahahaha ha. Dave Strider never did things just to be nice. Okay, maybe occasionally. Rarely. Once in a great while. And even then, every nice thing he’d ever done since you and he started doing the do and getting it done had earned him a very special very intimate reward. Usually because his nice things, especially after you turned 21, ended with you or both of you being totally fucking sauced. Not that you were complaining. Dave was pretty good at blowjobs, especially since he got his tongue pierced, and well you were…

_According to Dave_ , you were good at a lot of things.

And we’ll leave it at that.

But if this is one of Dave’s clever little schemes to get laid by being nice then you had a feeling you’d be using your special talents very soon. You smiled to yourself at the idea when a hand landed on your shoulder and pulled you into a sideways hug.

“What’ya smilin’ for?” Dave chimed, right in your damn ear.

You shook your head and raised your eyebrows, “Nothing, nothing.”

“Mhm,” He gave you a knowing smirk, again, Jesus what was he up to? “So you ready to go then?” You lazily gesture to your clothes and he pulls a face. “After we’re married we’ll have to work on your sense of style.”

Ignoring his comment about your fashion sense – you didn’t think it was _all_ that bad, “Married?”

“Yep, married.” He nodded firmly. “We’re gonna get married and have a couple kids and a dog, maybe a porch swing. We’ll grow old together, PDAs in the retirement home, all that jazz.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot,” You smile.

“Oh you bet I have, so you’re ready then?” He asks again and you nod. “Great let’s go our reservation is in literally,” He pulls out his phone to glance at the watch, “Fifteen minutes so we gotta fuckin rocket our asses across town.”

And so you do, you arrive at the restaurant just over fifteen minutes later. You were pretty sure you didn’t have to be exactly on time for a dinner reservation but Dave tried to be punctual just in case. He pulled out your seat for you when the waiter showed you to your table and bowed with his hand over his stomach like a true gentlemen. You couldn’t help but laugh at the gesture.

After a few minutes of looking at the menu you finally give in a look up at Dave, shaking your head, “Alright, what are we doing here?” He raises and eyebrow at you, “I’ve thought of every possible special occasion this could be and they either don’t make sense or it’s the wrong date.”

“What can’t I just take my boyfriend out to dinner?” He frowns, “Jeez, John something doesn’t _always_ have to be going on, but,” He smiles again, “It just so happens something is going on tonight!”

“Well what!”

He brings his finger to his lips and smirks. Immediately following his signal for silence his finger moves to point in the direction of the approaching waiter, “Our drinks are here.”

The waiter sets a glass in front of Dave and pours champagne into it. He then turns to you, wearing the same knowing smirk you’d seen Dave wear all day. “Sir.” He nods. You nod back out of courtesy. “Would you like a glass of champagne?” Personally it wasn’t your favorite thing to drink, but since Dave would probably being paying for the entire bottle (why do fancy restaurants do that, you go there to eat not get plastered on wine and champagne) you accept. He sets the glass in front of you.

And that’s when it hits you.

You look from the glass, to the waiter, who is still wearing his very knowing smirk, to Dave who is also wearing the smirk. Back to the glass. “Oh dear, sir, I am sorry. It appears there’s something in your glass, let me get you a clean one.” He set’s the bottle of champagne on the table and makes a hasty exit. You look at Dave. He’s staring at you with a full blown grin, very expectantly.

Your breath kind of catches in your throat and you finally realize what is going on, you blink and few times and sputter out, “T-this is for me?”

Dave nods.

You bring your hand to your mouth and just stare at the glass for a few seconds.

“Well go on take it, I can’t ask til it’s in your hand, dumbass.”

“A-ask?” You stare at him pretty wide eyed, trying to process what’s going on. He was asking you to marry him. He was… oh God. This… He… wanted to marry _you._

Your hand is shaking as you grab the glass and tip it upside down, a small golden ring falls out and into your palm. As soon as you do Dave is at your side, he’s not doing the cheesy down on one knee thing, though you think he probably wishes he was, instead he’s leaning over your shoulder and whispering in your ear.

His voice is kind of shaky and you can tell he’d been working up the nerve to do this for a while. “John Egbert,” He begins. “We’ve been best friends since we were eight, we’ve done everything together since we were teenagers, and we’ve been inseparable since August 23rd five years ago.” He moves one hand from your shoulder to do something; you don’t know what, his other one still there, though. “And I’ve always heard there’s no better person to marry than your best friend.” And he pulls back, he’s not wearing his glasses. That’s what he was doing with his free hand. He’s looking you dead in the eye and you want so badly to look away because you know what he’s about to say and thoughts are swirling through your brain at a million miles an hour.

He wants to marry you. He wants to marry _you._

You’re going to hold him back.

He’s going places. You’re going nowhere. He can’t marry you. You aren’t right for him. You love him too much to do that to him. To give him your debts and burdens. You can’t say yes. You can’t.

You breathe shakily through your nose. His eyes are still deadlocked with yours. He opens his mouth, takes your hand, and asks. “Johnathan Cornelius Egbert, will you marry me?”

You blink several times.

No, say no.

Tell him no.

Don’t burden him.

_Say no._

You open your mouth, you’re probably trembling slightly, fully prepared to reject his request. You inhale enough to let some oxygen get to your brain. Dave waits for your answer.

“Yes.”

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> present day again! kinda going back and forth, if you didn't notice lol

“He left me, Jade!” You groan and bury your face in your hands. “He left me the night before our wedding and nobody has heard from him since! He got the hell out of Dodge at the last second. He doesn’t fucking love me,” You’ve had a few drinks and you’d been talking Jade’s ear off for the better part of an hour. She kept trying to comfort and reassure you, but it really wasn’t working. “He probably didn’t even _like_ me! He was probably just tolerating me this entire time!”

“Dave that isn’t true!” She argued.

You stood up and towered over her, she was seated at the table across from the bed in your hotel room, “And how do you know that, Jade? How do _you_ know he loved me? Did he actually tell you? Because according to Rose he told you some stuff, stuff he never told me about himself, about doubts he was having, he asked _you_ for relationship advice every time he needed it.”

“Well, yeah he did, but he did love you Dave! I mean, he does. God, John… he adores you! He…” She throws her hands up in a shrugging sort of motion. “He loves you a lot, he… He was the one who kissed you first, right? He took off where you left off in your confession of love _didn’t he_? So he loved you too, he still does love you, he’s probably just…” She throws her hands up again, “Ugh, I don’t know, confused. Conflicted, something!”

“Confused and conflicted about _what?”_ You hiss.

She breathes heavily through her nose. “I don’t know, Dave. I don’t know. He tells me a lot of stuff but he didn’t come to me with this. He came to me with the happy problems. The problems where he loved you too much, where he wanted to know what to get you as a present, when he wanted to know how to tell you he loved you in the first place. He came to me for stuff like that. And I helped him, I always helped him, if anyone in this world knew how much John Egbert loved you, it’d be me.”

You shrug pathetically and grab another drink from the mini-fridge before plopping back down onto the bed. “Then why’d he leave?” You shake your head and look at her with tears in your eyes again. “Why’d he leave me? Why today? Why?” You keep shaking your head trying to ward off crying but it’s not gonna happen.

Jade senses it and stands up and pulls you into a sort of motherly hug; she’s rubbing your hair reassuringly and shushing you. You know she doesn’t know why he left; it was more of a rhetorical question. As far as you’re concerned he left because he doesn’t love you and he didn’t ever love you, he just didn’t have the guts to tell you from the get-go.

You remember.

You remember him hesitating.

He hesitated, when you proposed.

At the time you told yourself you were just imagining things, he was just a little shocked, was all. But now you knew. You knew not to be so blind.

And when you really started to think about it… He hesitated a lot. Like he didn’t _want_ to be with you. He filled you up with false ‘I love you’s and fabricated intimacy, and the worst part? You fell for it.

You fell for all of it.

Every kiss.

Every touch.

Every word John Egbert ever said to you.

You fell for it all.

You hung onto his voice, his feel, his smell, his…

You breathed out through your nose, you were sad but you were angry. You were angry with yourself for believing John for all these years. You were angry. So so angry.

You didn’t feel anger toward John though… you felt…

You felt empty.

Because you loved him. God, you loved him. You _still_ love him. You fell in love with him. He got his hooks into you and pulled you around like a God damn pet and then _left_. He left. He left on your wedding night, he didn’t tell you before that no, he waited til the last possible fucking minute before bailing.

And you had to keep telling yourself that too. That he left. Because it still didn’t feel real. It felt like some sick dream that you couldn’t get out of, but you knew when you did… You hoped when you did, John would be there, next to you. Sleeping. He’d be your husband, and this would all have been some bad dream you worked up after seeing a movie your brain couldn’t work out.

_It has to be a dream._

You’re desperate for this to be fake. You want so badly to wake up and be next to John. To smell his hair and the weird spearmint scent it gives off. But no matter how much you drank, how angry you got, how much you pinched yourself, you never woke up.

John was gone.

You reminded yourself over and over. He left.

He didn’t love you.

But you were certain he did. Jade said he did. Jade knows him better than anyone.

Jade...

She was still hugging you, rubbing your hair and you only just realized you were still crying. She was whispering “It’s okay. It’s alright.” Over and over.

You didn’t want her to stop but she wasn’t really helping, her touch was comforting though. You felt numb and alone, and having somebody there to calm you down was nice. Jade was always nice.

Hell, you wouldn’t have even met John in the first place if it weren’t for her. You can’t recall the exact date, but you know you were eight years old. You met Jade in third grade; she and you were desk buddies. She was nice enough… shared her crayons… had a good sense of humor. She also had a cousin, a cousin she wanted you to meet.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> flashbacks again, couple chapters this time!

You never understood why your brother made you move here. All the way from home. Texas was your home, or so you thought, but now apparently Washington was your home. It was a hard thing to comprehend, at eight years old, why the person you looked up to would take you from your home and friends and call a new place your home. You tried to understand, you tried to act cool for Bro. But it was weird, and hard. Now you had to go to a new school and meet new friends. You didn’t want to. But you had to.

_Desk buddies,_ they were called. The third grade classroom was set up in rows and columns of desk that were paired in twos. Three rows of two in the front of the classroom and four columns to the back, all evenly lined up like the teacher used some kind of giant ruler to get them that way.

You entered the classroom and looked for your name on the desk, next to a girl named Jade Harley. Okay, so you weren’t a firm believer in cooties but you were pretty sure you didn’t wanna sit next to a girl. But you guessed you had no choice, so you sat down. A few minutes later a little girl with curly black hair sat beside you. She gave you a friendly smile and introduced herself.

“Jade Harley,” She said, and offered her hand to you for a shake. What kind of third grade girl shakes hands? You just stared at it and didn’t say anything. After a few seconds she dropped it and continued on talking as if it never happened. “What’s your name?” She glanced at the tag on your desk. “Dave Strider? Hi, Dave! I like you glasses, they’re really neat. How come you’re allowed to wear sunglasses in school?”

You weren’t going to answer her but you had to now, she made a mistake. A horrible terrible mistake, your Bro would be appalled, shocked, offended, outraged. “Shades.” You deadpanned.

“Huh?” She squishes up her face successfully creating a very confused expression.

“They’re shades, not sunglasses, and I wear them because I can.” You turn your attention from her after that, she surely won’t make that mistake again.

“Oh! Haha! Right, sorry. _Shades._ ” She winked, you noticed from the corner of your eye. “Well then, Dave Strider, I like your shades, they’re soooo cool!!”

Your face didn’t show it but that made you happy. Very happy. She thought you were cool, your Bro would be so proud. He totally would. You couldn’t wait to go home and tell him somebody thought you were cool!

After a few minutes of silence on Jade’s part, she spoke again. “So why are you allowed to wear sunglasses inside the school?” She asked, again.

“Shades.” You corrected, followed by a shrug to answer her question.

“Right, sorry! Jeez, I know somebody who might think your shades,” She giggled after using that word, “Would be real cool too, you should meet him at recess, he’s my cousin!”

Well dang, first day at a new school and already you have one.. friend? She was kind of nosey and you barely talked to her but you were gonna call her your friend anyway. Even if only to yourself. Anyway, one friend and one possible friend to be, not half bad. Maybe living in Washington wouldn’t be so bad after all!

By the time recess rolled around Jade had made herself your personal escort, she made sure to introduce you to everyone she knew, showed you where everything is, and told the teacher she’d help you get up to date on what the class was learning. Your school in Texas wasn’t so straight forward with learning, actually it wasn’t very good with learning at all. The funding was low, the teachers were unhappy, and the students suffered because of it. But you weren’t too far behind for the most part, there were some things you hadn’t learned yet but you were getting there.

Kids were running around, being generally loud and kind of annoying. Other kids kind of pissed you off, you weren’t gonna lie. Not that you were like Mr. Grumpy Gills or anything, you just thought they were annoying. You loved to play and pretend and stuff but other kids just did it so _wrong._ They’d do stupid stuff like play house and address each other as “brother” or “sister” instead of actually naming their characters and like… using their imaginations. They were eight for Christ’s sake, it was time to start using their brains.

Anyway, let’s save your mental rant on the poor play-pretend habits of other children and get back to what’s going on. Jade is dragging you behind her, to the edge of the playground. It was like some crazy adventure, past the jungle gym, past the blacktop, the soccer field, all the way to a small patch of trees that had a few kids gathered around sitting in the shade. From a distance they didn’t look like they were doing anything, but as you got closer bits of their conversation reached your ears and you could make out a very poorly drawn map in the dirt.

“So we go in from this side,” One kid with a stick poked at the map. “And take back what was ours.” He drew a line from where he pointed to where he intended for his, uh, troop to go.

“And how do we get past the dragons?” One kid, sitting Indian style in front of the map, chimed in.

“Well we fight of course!” A girl to the back stood up. “How else do you think, Tavros? We’re just gonna sissy our way in and hope they give us the castle?”

The one sitting crisscross shrugged and looked back at the map. “It just seems kind of dangerous.”

“ _Obviously_ it’s dangerous!” You look up, a girl was sitting on a low hanging tree branch dangling her legs over the edge. “In the pursuit of justice there’s always danger!”

“The pursuit of justice?” The boy with the stick questioned.

“Yeah!” She hopped down and scuffed up the whole map in the process. “The pursuit of justice, see Karkat, we were dealt a great injustice when the evil wizard and his minions took our land and castle,” She pointed to the jungle gym tower across the playground. “And so us getting it back is obviously the pursuit of justice!”

The girl who spoke before, to Tavros, rolled her eyes. “You watch too many police shoes, Terezi. This isn’t a pursuit of justice or whatever you said, this is us going in and taking that castle back from the wizard.”

“Which is justice!” Terezi (apparently) protested. “Vriska, us going in and taking back the castle and fighting the dragons is so much justice you have no idea. This is like the most justice thing that’s ever going to happen on this playground, ever.”

Jade must’ve felt like this was a good time to interrupt them because she did, she cleared her throat, stepped up to them, and bowed in the boy (Karkat’s) presence. “Sir,” He nodded. “I’ve come for information.”

“On what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Where’s John?”

He gasped, along with the other three children. “John! Why do you wanna know where John is?” She stepped back and gestured to you. You gave an awkward wave. Karkat stepped up to you and looked you up and down. “Who’s this?”

“Dave Strider, sir. I want to introduce him to my cousin.”

“Hm,” Karkat nodded. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, only there’s a problem.”

“Oh good grief, what?”

“John has been captured.” He pointed to the castle. “The evil wizard, Eridan, has him held below the castle along with two more of our men. We were hoping in our journey to reclaim the castle we could rescue them along the way.”

“Oh no!” Jade exclaimed. “Who else does he have?”

“John’s big sister and Sollux.” He said firmly, leaning down to redraw the map.

“Oh jeez, how did things get so out of hand here?”

“We sent them to spy for us,” Vriska piped in, “I told Karkat it was a bad idea, that John and Jane were just gonna muck it up. Sollux volunteered to go with them, I think he’s a traitor.”

“Who? Sollux?” She questions.

“Yeah. He was actin’ weird before the mission, and next thing we know John and Jane are locked up.” Vriska shakes her head, “Can’t believe it, one of our own, a double agent.”

“Dave and I can get them back.” Jade says. You’re a little taken back by that, you didn’t agree to that, you weren’t here to go save some damsels in distress. You open your mouth to protest but Jade grabs your wrist again. “Come on Dave, we’ve got a mission to do!”


	9. Chapter 9

Jade seemed oddly enthusiastic about this mission to save John and his sister. You were kind of confused, really. You went from being the new kid to the secret weapon in a complicated mission to not only save prisoners, but also take down an entire empire run by a supposedly evil wizard. How did you even know you were working for the right side? Oh man, what if you got involved with the bad guys. Well was that really so bad? You kind of felt like it was more fun to be the bad guys, but it was also cool being the good guys.

Oh crap, Jade was talking.

“Are you even paying attention?” She pokes your shoulder. The two of you took up hiding behind a bush near the ‘dragon valley’. In this game of pretend, apparently the soccer field was a deadly valley filled with dragons, you had to cross it unnoticed and unharmed. Jade pointed out there were fewer dragons than normal because Eridan had enlisted some to help him when he conquered the castle.

According to Jade, Karkat was a knight. He was the first knight, charged with protection of the queen – Jane. Jane was John’s sister and apparently John was heir to the throne. They took on the mission to infiltrate Eridan’s stronghold with hopes that they could convince Eridan they wanted to join his side. Unfortunately, Sollux was a traitor. He’d been working with Eridan in secret, relaying information and jeopardizing the entire mission. Terezi and Vriska were the royal advisors, apparently. Tavros was a page, Karkat’s knight in training. Jade was an all-powerful witch, and now since you’d joined forces with them you were deemed a knight in charge of protecting Jade and rescuing the queen and heir.

Eridan was the evil wizard. He could control dragons, and was apparently heir to the throne of his own castle once, before he went sour. Since the beginning of time (the beginning of the school year) he tried to overthrow the castle where the queen and heir resided. When Eridan gained the ability to control the dragons he succeeded. Once Jade told you all of this and you were fully caught up, she explained the plan.

“So they don’t know you.” She pointed out. “I’ll go in, all normal like, and ask to talk to Eridan. Since I am normally not associated with a side – great thing about being the witch that people came to with their problems – he won’t suspect a thing. Hopefully. He knows I’m related to John and Jane, but I don’t think he knows I know they’re in his dungeon. So I’ll go in and talk with him, if I get captured too, it’ll be up to you to save us. If I don’t though, while I’ve got Eridan and his guards distracted you sneak into the dungeon to free John and Jane.”

She stops for a minute and taps her finger to her chin, “Eridan’s guards aren’t stupid. One is a fifth grader, Equius, he’ll be easy to trick, Sollux though, he’s smart. Like really smart.” She stops again to think. “If I can’t trick them or keep them distracted, go back to the others, we can ambush the castle, as a last resort. But for now,” She points to the soccer field. “We need to cross this valley of dragons.”

“You won’t make it without protection!” Somebody shouts from behind, the two of you turn to the voice. It’s Terezi. “Dragons are dangerous! You’re going to need help.”

“Are you sure Karkat and the other’s don’t need you?” Jade asks.

“They’ll be fine, I’ll only be gone long enough to lead you across the valley.”

Apparently, you’ve been thinking that word a lot, because you’re not sure what to believe because you’ve only just joined this game of pretend, so apparently, Terezi has a cloak that can make you invisible to the dragons. She says she can wear it and lead you across the field – valley – unharmed. Jade agrees to let her help and she pulls a bright orange jersey over her shirt. Similar to those that the children playing soccer were wearing.

Jade turns to you before you cross, “The Cloak of Dragons is dangerous. The more somebody wears it, the more involved with the dragons they become. We have to be quick or we could lose Terezi to the dragons for good.” You nod. She nods, “Good. We’re ready Terezi.”

And you make the journey across the field. The soccer ball comes in your general direction, Terezi kicks it away. “They know we’re here.” She whispers, leading you slightly faster. “We have to hurry. I can take you to the village, but no further.” The village was the black top, and the children playing on it were the villagers.

“We can make it from there,” Jade assures. “Just get back to the others as soon as you can, I don’t want you overcome by the dragons.”

“I’ll try.” Terezi says, turning her attention in the direction of the soccer players.

She finishes leading you to the blacktop then takes her leave. Jade walks onto the blacktop, “What no sneaking around?” You run up behind her.

“We don’t need to sneak through the village, but when we get to the castle we’ll have to be careful.” The woodchip enclosure around the jungle gym was where you had to start sneaking again. She told you to wait outside of it, look inconspicuous. She’d signal you if things got bad, the signal would be her _trying_ to get down the fire pole, so you had to keep an eye open just in case she tried but couldn’t make it. She said if she went down the steps, pirate ladder, or slider, then there was no worry. And lastly, she said when you think Eridan, Sollux, and Equius were good and distracted to make a move, but be careful he could have dragons or agents patrolling.

Suddenly you felt very involved in this whole game, and you felt like you had an important part, and honestly you were having fun. You watched as Jade made her way up the jungle gym. She raised her hands to show her trust worthiness. You waited a few minutes, til she was deep in conversation with Eridan and his guards you made your move. Sneaking up to the jungle gym was the easy part, but this was a pretty big piece of playground equipment so you weren’t exactly sure where the dungeon was supposed to be. You tried your best to stay out of sight and find it.

You spotted two kids under the highest part of the jungle gym, there were safety bars on three sides, but the fourth was open. Kind of a cruddy dungeon, but you figured they were using their imagination and knew they wouldn’t be able to escape. You crept over to one of the barred sides. John and Jane gave you questioning looks as you approached.

“John Egbert and Jane Crocker?” They nodded. “Dave Strider, at your service. I’ve been inducted into knighthood specifically to rescue the two of you.” They share a glance and look back at you.

“How do you propose on getting us out?” Jane says.

You shrug, “I’m no rocket scientist but I think that would be our best bet.” You point to the open section of the dungeon. John laughs. “But we have to hurry, Jade is keeping Eridan distracted right now, we don’t have much ti-”

“Dave go!” You hear from above, followed by the sight of Jade coming down the fire pole. “Go go go!”

“Come on!” You shout and direct John and Jane out. It’s too late though, Eridan and his friends made it down the fire pole shortly after Jade, you were surrounded.

“Take John back to the forest,” Jane commands. “I can hold them off with Jade.”

“But Jane!” John whines.

“Go!” She barks again.

John frowns and begins to protest again but you don’t give him the time, instead you grab his wrist and drag him out of the dungeon and off the castle grounds, through the village and across Dragon Valley as quickly as you can. You drag John behind you all the way back to the small group of trees you now know is called the forest. You and he are both out of breath when you reach it, your sudden arrival startles Karkat and the others.

He jumps up from where he was sitting, “Where’s Jane and Jade?”

You barely manage to reply through your heavy breathing, “They…. Stayed…. Behind… to… let us…. Get… away…” John nods, now doubled over with his hands on his knees.

“And Terezi?” You give him a puzzled look. “Terezi never came back.”

“Oh crud.” You say. “She helped us across Dragon Valley, she must not have survived the crossing back.”

You look over at John when you hear a weird sort of wooshing noise. He has an inhaler in his mouth. He puts it back in his pocket and throws his hands in the air, “That was the COOLEST ESCAPE EVER! That was SO AWESOME DAVE. You’re gonna play with us all the time, right?”

The others look at you expectantly, too. You look from one to the other and then nod with a smile on your face. “Could be fun, I guess.”

“Good,” Karkat remarked. “Good, we could use you. Tomorrow we need to save Terezi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should explain why john and jane are brother and sister but have different last names in this, because i thought about it but it probably won't come up. they have the same mom but different dads. their mom hooked up on a one night stand with a man she never saw again and shortly after jane was born she met john's dad and about a year later here comes little john. they're both of spanish decent because of their mom but jane's dad was latino and john's dad is white so jane has slightly darker skin than john. half brother and sister, but i think saying half brother is stupid so i just call them brother and sister.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo! so some quick notes on the subject of "updating" the chapters are usually pretty short, as you may have noticed, because i don't really write them as chapters, persay. i am writing this as basically one big... kinda one-shot but i post each section as a chapter so there is no awkward pov switching in the middle of each part. i also post the flashbacks as seperate chapters for easier trasitions. i'm saying this cuz a few people told me i update fast, and it's really just im adding what i've written and proof read because its more like a big one-shot than a true multi-chapter fic i think

You didn’t know how he did it, but Dave’s brother found you. He always did stuff like that. He knew things that nobody else knew. Had ideas that nobody else had. You were pretty sure he was some sort of international superspy with all these different connections that he covered up by running a puppet porn business from his home computer.

He sat beside you at the bar; you were miserably drunk already and not so fazed by his appearance. He nodded his head at the bar tender who poured him a drink. He took a slow sip before putting a hand on your shoulder to make sure he had your full attention.

“So, kid, what’s the deal?” He had a southern draw one-hundred times stronger than Dave’s. You answer him with a shrug. He doesn’t like that. “Now come on, Egbert, you’re supposed to be back in California marrying my little brother, what’re you doing all the way out here getting shitfaced?” Another shrug. “John don’t make me call Dave and tell him where you are.” That got your attention.

Your head snaps up and you look at him. “Don’t!”

“Alright, so spill it then. Why’d you high-tail it out of there at the last second?” He sips his drink again.

You rub the skin just under your nose and sigh with a miserable head shake, “I don’t know. It didn’t feel right.”

“Feel right? Jesus, kid, you been datin’ Dave for damn near seven years and ya’ll have been friends since, shit since before I can even remember.” He frowned. “How did it not feel right? What’s got you so worried that it ain’t right?”

“Nothing, er everything, I don’t know!” You lay your head in your hands, elbows propped up on the bar. “I don’t know.”

“Well, shit, John, get to knowin’. I’d like to be done with the drama by tomorrow.” He was trying to joke around with you but you just weren’t feeling it.

“I love Dave,” You begin. “I really do. He’s my best friend and I’d be so,” You inhale through your nose and roll your eyes up to the heavens dramatically, “I’d be delighted to marry him, I almost _did_ marry him but,” You shake your head and shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You don’t know why you didn’t marry him?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. “You been with him for damn near ya’lls entire lives and you suddenly don’t know why you didn’t marry him. Bullshit. I don’t buy it.”

You close your eyes and think for a second before finally getting it out. “I just… I can’t marry him. I can’t…” Your hands form several vague circles in the air like you’re trying to find the words but you can’t. Bro just waits with his lips pressed together, staring at you like it’s gonna make you answer faster. “I don’t want to trap him, I guess. I don’t know. I have so much debt and he’s got such big dreams I’d just hold him back…”

Bro puffs up his cheeks and lets out a gush of air, “Shit, John, what do you think love is about? Why he wanted to marry you? He loves you, he wanted to share your debts and go somewhere with you. You aren’t holding him back, you’re pushing him along. He wants to go in the direction both of you can go together. He wants you and him to have some kind of great life and some kids and a house or something. Love ain’t about avoiding the other person just so you don’t have to burden them; it’s about sharing your burdens and working them out together _because_ you love each other.”

His words stung a lot because you knew he was right. He was so fucking right. You left Dave out of love, you thought, but when you really _really_ thought about it, what you did wasn’t because you loved him. It was because you were selfish and afraid. Afraid of burdening Dave and you took it upon yourself to protect him without knowing if he even wanted protecting.

You let out a long sigh and closed your eyes tight. You felt like shit, total and utter shit. Dave was your best friend, your boyfriend, supposed to be your husband; you had to face the world _together,_ not in secret without him. You pushed the palms of your hands into your eye sockets and rubbed them, the alcohol was making you hazy, but you still knew Bro was right and you messed up. You messed up big time.

You moved your hands from your face and rubbed one across the top of your head, ruffling your own hair in the process, and leaned your other elbow against the bar. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He rolls his eyes; you can’t tell because he’s wearing sunglasses, he always wears those sunglasses. He and Dave both, actually. Dave used to have some exactly like his brothers. It was cool at first, you thought he looked so great in them and everyone thought he was cool as shit, but when you got to middle school it wasn’t as cool. It was mostly just embarrassing. Dave walking around the hallway with those big stupid triangle frame sunglasses.

You nod to yourself, still thinking about Dave’s old glasses, how you got him new ones when he turned thirteen. How happy he was because of it, even though he swore the triangle ones were better. You smiled. Bro must’ve noticed because he stood up after that.

“So you can tell him or I can.”

You turned to face him, he was waiting for your reply, ready to leave. “I’ll call him.”

Bro nods, as if to say, ‘I knew you’d make the right choice.’ And makes his exit, so you’re alone at the bar again. You have another drink and think about what Bro said, again, but mostly you think about when you gave Dave his new glasses. That was right around the time you realized you might have liked him more than just as a friend, wasn’t it?


	11. Chapter 11

Your best friend was going to be a teenager in less than a week and you still had _no idea_ what to get him. You racked your brain and racked your brain, but couldn’t think of anything Dave would want that he didn’t already have. You tried to notice things about him, just trying to see what he might want or need.

Instead you started to notice… other things. You weren’t exactly sure why you were noticing them or what noticing them really meant, but you noticed them. You noticed how Dave’s hair would curl at the ends when it got too long, how he licked his lips a lot when the air was dry, how he tapped the eraser of his pencil on the desk when he was trying to figure out a math problem. How he smelled kind of like cinnamon and had really really white teeth.

You noticed a lot of little things like that, things you didn’t pay attention to or care about before but now… those little things they were like… the reasons you liked Dave the most. He was your best friend and you liked him for a lot of reasons but the little things were the reasons you wanted to hang out with him all the time. Sure, you hung out with other people, still played pretend with Vriska and Tavros on occasion (you’d been trying to avoid them though, since Vriska kissed you, which was awkward and very unexpected), but more than anything you just like being with Dave.

You even liked being with him when he was a total dick, like in October you got braces, because you and your sister both were cursed with awful overbites and very crooked teeth. Anyway, when you got your braces Dave laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. He made jokes, in good fun, but still rude. He stopped after a few days, he got used to them the same as you.

He always complimented you when you got new glasses. You got new ones every year because the eye doctor would always change your prescription, trying to figure out what worked best.

Wait a second, glasses.

You look over at Dave, who’s playing Mariokart on his DS beside you. His glasses, the sunglasses he’s had since you met, they were getting kind of tight on him. You noticed how they were kind of pressed tightly against his face on the sides and looked really small in comparison to his head. You rubbed your chin and thought about it for a minute. Maybe you could get him some new glasses, would he even like that? If you did they’d have to be like… So badly sentimental that he’d love them for the sake of irony. You puff up your cheeks a little and think harder, you don’t even realize you’re staring.

He glances up from his DS at you, “John?”

You snap yourself from your thoughts, “Huh?”

“What are you staring at?” He wrinkles his eyebrows.

“Oh, uh, nothing, just thinking about what to get you for your birthday.”

“Don’t worry about it dude, I don’t need anything. Save your money.” He waves his hand dismissively and goes back to racing.

Of course, you weren’t going to listen to him. You were gonna get him the _best_ birthday present ever; you just had to think of what it was going to be and pray that it wasn’t too expensive. You had an idea, but you had to do some research first.  

And research you did. You looked for the most ironic, cheesy, predictable gift you could. You browse the web for the better part of an hour until you stumbled across and eBay auction. Ben Stiller’s glasses from Starsky and Hutch? Dave liked that movie (ironically he said, but you thought he genuinely liked it), maybe _these_ glasses were the perfect gift.

But fuck, they were expensive. You rounded up all the money you had. “Fifty-two dollars and thirty-eight cents.” You mumbled under your breath and returned to the computer. The current bid was just over sixty dollars. Looks like it was time to get creative.

And by get creative, you obviously meant…

“Daaaaad, can I borrow some money?” Your dad looked up from behind his laptop screen and gave you a questioning eyebrow raise. “It’s to get Dave a birthday present, right now I’m like ten dollars short, but it’s an eBay auction and I really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really REALLY really _really realllllly_ wanna get it for him!” Hopefully that was enough reallys.

Your dad shook his head and chuckled a little. “How much is it now?”

“Sixty bucks.” You grumble.

“And you have?”

“Fifty-two.”

He pushed his lips together and thought for a second before nodding, “Alright, I can spot you up to fifty, sound good? But if the bids go past 100 pull out or find a new supporter.”

Your face lit up and you practically tackled him into a hug, careful of his laptop of course, “Ohhhh thank you! Thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU!” He just laughed under your weight and tried to hug back. The position was kind of complicated for doing so.

You ran upstairs to commence bidding. It was up to eighty-nine and your stomach started to sink. The bidding didn’t end for another twenty-two hours and you were almost certain you wouldn’t get the glasses.

Needless to say, twenty-two hours later you were leaping for joy. The final and winning bid was ninety-three dollars, leaving you just barely enough for shipping. Dave better appreciate you just spent 100 bucks on glasses. Weird, retro, movie prop glasses that probably touch Ben Stiller’s weird face at some point. You should include that in your card, not the hundred dollars thing, but the thing about Ben Stiller having a weird face.

The next few days leading up to Dave’s birthday were torture, you just wanted to give him his gift, you were antsy and excited and uuuuuuuuugh. Waiting was so hard!! But you did it. You waited the entire time. And you waited all day during his birthday, instead of whipping his gift out during school like you _so desperately wanted_.

Finally, the moment was here. Dave was pulling the ribbon off the blue box you’d given him. You bounced up and down eagerly, waiting to see his face. When the box was open Dave crinkled up his nose, uh oh. He reached in and pulled out the glasses.

“Aviators?” He stared at you questioningly. “You got me aviators, John, do you really hate my shades _that much_?”

“No! Nooo!” That was a lie, you totally hated his shades. “No, Dave those are _the_ aviators from that one Ben Stiller movie you like. Like the real actual ones that touched-” You stopped, “Just read the letter, stupid.”

He pulled the folded up piece of paper out of the box and scanned over it, a smile spreading across his face as he did. Following that, he pulled another paper out of the box, a certificate of authenticity. Immediately after finishing the letter he looked up to you.

“Holy shit dude, thank you. This is like the coolest most ironic gift I’ve ever got.” You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m serious. I love it. I’ll wear them always.” Next thing you know, his old, ugly triangle shades were haphazardly thrown onto the bed and replaced with the shiny (vintage?) aviators on his face. You weren’t gonna lie, he looked damn cool. Of course, you’d never tell him that.

“Well?”

You shrug your shoulders and make a face, “You look alriiiight, I guess.” You followed with a smirk so he’d know you were kidding. It earned you a playful punch on the arm.

“You know you love them on me John, I’m hot.” He flipped his hair dramatically off his forehead.

“Oh so hot Dave, so incredibly hot. We should get married someday so I can have you allll to myself.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m holding you to that Egbert.” He smirked.


	12. Chapter 12

You sat in the center of your hotel room bed, absent mindedly picking bits of fluff off the fabric of the bedding. Jade left, so you were alone again. Rose wanted to know if you wanted company, you turned her down. You weren’t sad or anything. Well, okay you were, but you didn’t really feel sad at the moment, just sort of empty. You tried calling your Bro shortly after you realized John was gone, he didn’t answer, so you went to the hotel room he was staying in. It was empty.

This little flicker of an idea, one you did not like, crept into your head. That John and your brother ran away together. It was fucked up, you knew it was. Bro would never do that. _John_ would never do that, but still, you couldn’t help but wonder.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and rubbed your eyes. It’s been a long day. A long, sad, very heartbreaking day. You just wanted to sleep. Sleep the pain away. Your eyes found themselves looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. One-thirty in the morning. You wanted to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. You breathed deeply through your nose and tried to push the negative thoughts out.

Your heart ached. Tears danced in the corners of your eyes. You were trying not to get upset again, but God damn it was so hard. You had a _right_ to be sad. Your fiancé left you, for Christ’s sake! On your wedding night! Everyone kept telling you it’d be fine but it WOULDN’T. The love of your life _left._

Your blood was starting to boil again, thinking about it. You took several deep breaths and stopped yourself from getting worked up. There was no point. If Bro saw you, he’d have a fit. _What were you doing?_ Wallowing in sadness? What kind of Strider _were you?_ You were acting like a child, like a heart broken prom queen. Crying wasn’t going to solve your problems. Nothing was. John was gone, get over it.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood. You’d already cleaned out the mini-fridge, but the hotel bar downstairs was open until three. You slipped on your shoes and went down. You weren’t going to keep beating yourself up for something you couldn’t control. John didn’t wanna be with you, so what? He’s his own person. Let him go.

The elevator ride was slow. So fucking slow. Shit, everything was slow. Every movement you made felt long and drawn out. Like the entire world was just stuck in slow motion or something. The lights in the lobby were bright, too bright. Maybe you got a little drunker than you thought off of mini-fridge cocktails. You blinked a few times and stumbled into the bar, coolly sliding onto one of the barstools. You tapped the counter. “Gin and coke.” The bartender gave you a nod.

In any other circumstance, you probably would’ve been asked to show your ID, but you’d already been to this bar today. You gave the bartender an earful about what happened, it was a nice young lady then, you left around the time they switched to this old geezer. This dude must’ve been like sixty, serving drinks like some kind of alcohol wizard.

You polished off your gin and coke relatively quickly, asked for another, double shot of gin this time. He obliged. So you weren’t happy, so what, you didn’t have to be happy to get shitfaced, and that’s exactly what you were gonna do, you were already halfway there. Usually, you held your alcohol pretty well, but since you’d been steadily drinking all afternoon you were pretty buzzed. (This is unlike John would could get hammered on just a couple glasses of vodka and orange juice.) (Stop thinking of John.) (Fuck you did it again.) (Fuck John.) (God you wish you could, some nice angry make-up sex would be nice right now.) (That has _got_ to be the alcohol talking.) (Nope, you’re pretty sure it’s you. The alcohol might be coaxing the thoughts out, but they’re all you, pal.)

It was too late, you were thinking about John again.

How you wanted to kiss him.

Hold him.

Touch him.

Love him in all the ways only you could love him.

You wanted to see him smile and hear him laugh. You wanted to feel his heartbeat and smell his hair. You wanted to taste his mouth on yours and you…

You wanted him back.

Getting drunk was a bad idea. Instead of keeping out the thoughts of John, they come flooding in.

His voice, his nose, his beautiful blue eyes, the way he eats, the way he sneezes, the way he adjusts his glasses… _God dammit._ Why did he have to go? What did you do to push him away? You ran through everything in your head, every action, every word, anything that could’ve made John want to go. Nothing. You couldn’t think of _anything._

John always told you when he was upset with you. _Always._ Since you were kids, he always spoke his mind. He barely kept secrets from you and when he did Rose or Jade told you as soon as they found out. So what was different this time?

Why did he leave? You didn’t understand. It just didn’t make sense. He _loved_ you. You _love_ him. You down another gin and coke, your vision has become exceptionally blurry and you can barely make out the hands of the clock on the wall. Nearly three. You’ve had enough, honestly if you were capable of coherent thoughts that weren’t about John right now, you’d be thinking something along the lines of “One more drink and I’m gonna hurl.” Good thing you weren’t thinking such useless thoughts. Instead your brain was wrapped around one of the biggest puzzles you have ever had to solve: why did your fiancé leave?

Luckily you might get your answer a little sooner than you thought.

You barely felt your phone buzz in your pocket, you pull it out and try your best to read the name on the screen, but fuck you’re too drunk. You haphazardly slide the answer button and slur out a “Hello?”

The voice on the other end nearly shocks you sober, “Dave?” John. He’s just barely whispering, not like he’s trying to be quiet, but like he’s sad.

You wanted to simultaneously throw your phone across the room and ask John two million questions about what happened, where’d he go, why’d he go, was he okay? You didn’t even realize you never replied.

“Dave please, I’m sorry.” 


	13. Chapter 13

John’s nineteenth birthday fell on a Saturday this year, which was great, in your book. John didn’t understand why. Being a Strider, you’d been smashed before, it was no secret Bro kept liquor in the house and you were a curious teenager, what could you say. Not to mention that summer when you were sixteen and John and his family went to Spain, you went to soooo many parties. So many. Anyway, the point is, you’ve been drunk. John, no surprise to you at all, had not. He’d had a tiny sip of wine one New Year’s when he was twelve. That was it. He was a straight up alcohol virgin. You were gonna change that.

 Your phone buzzed and you scanned over John’s message. Red eyes rolled behind your shades. Your favourite shades. Best shades ever, even. Your fingers flew across the small texting keyboard as you wrote out your reply.

‘ _youre in college and youve never once been plastered john, doctor dave wants to remedy that’_

You waited for his reply.

‘ _i just don’t know, dave, i’m not old enough, neither are you.’_

Your eyes rolled again, he was a stubborn one.

‘ _i literally do not know any teenager ever who waited til they were 21 to get smashed’_

You rubbed your hand across your lip as the message was sending, hopefully you could convince him before tonight. You put your phone on the arm of the chair you were sitting and went to get a cold coke from the fridge, John had already sent his reply by the time you returned.

‘i _t’ll be just us? no big parties or anything?_ ’

Hook, line, and sinker.

‘ _just us i swear dude’_

You imagine if you could see John’s face right now he’s be chewing away nervously at his bottom lip and going on about “Oh, what would my dad say?” Blah blah blah blah.

‘ _alright, maybe i’ll try just a little, but ONLY if it’s just us.’_

 _‘scouts honor’_ You reply. Who else would you invite? You were pretty sure you wanted to be the only one present to witness John the first time he ever got drunk. Like, you were pretty sure one of the funniest things ever was fucking with somebody when they’re trippin’ balls and ain’t never been drunk before. Of course, you wouldn’t fuck with John… too much anyway.

No promises.

Okay, really, who could pass up the chance to dick around with John? Especially drunk John? Certainly not you. You loved the kid, yeah, but you also loved revenge. Time for some poorly executed payback for years of cream pies in the face and water balloon bombs dropped on your head. The little shit even pranked you on prom night, try explaining to a shit ton of high school seniors that the white stuff on your pant leg ain’t cum. It ain’t easy.

Anyway, that aside, you needed some booze, and quickly. Luckily you knew exactly where to find it, even more luckily your Bro was supposed to be out of town for the weekend, so you should have no problem waltzing in and taking a few drinks. You still lived at home for now, Bro didn’t try to make you leave when you finished high school, which was cool because before they died your parents tried to make him leave. A little part of you was worried he do the same to you, but he didn’t. John on the other hand did not live at home, he stayed in the dorms. The campus was too far from his house to make the drive every day, so he opted to move out.

You and he had casually discussed moving in together, someplace close to the university, but all the places close were either full or really terrible. John, much as you love him, was picky as shit when it came to living quarters. You told him you wouldn’t have to stay there forever, just til college was over. He wouldn’t budge.

But stop getting off track; you need to get the liquor.

Right right, you are. You’re in the kitchen now, looking through the “liquor cabinet” (a regular cupboard that Bro kept all this booze in). Hmmm, what would John like? You didn’t exactly peg him for the hard liquor or beer type so you grabbed a bottle of vodka and a bottle of schnapps for him, gin for yourself. Nothing beat a good ol’ fashion gin and coke. Of course, if John was gonna drink fruity drinks he was going to need some stuff to mix it with, so you picked up some orange juice and strawberry soda at the gas station on your way to get him.

You also picked up a pack of straws, with very full intentions to get one Mr. John Egbert wasted. Oh, and a bag of ice. Because warm alcohol is tolerable but fucking disgusting, let’s be real here. And while you’re at it you grab a pack of plastic cups. Good. You’re set. Let’s go.

You get back in your car, a nice upgrade from the dingy old truck you used to drive, it crapped out a few months back. It was a dark red 1998 grand-am, a nice looking car if you did say so yourself, and you did. Anyway, who cares about your car we have bigger fish to fry here.

You text John when you get outside of his dorm, to let him know you’re there. It takes him a few minutes to come out but when he does he looks damn cute. He easily slides into the passenger seat beside you, as he’s done many times, and you lean over and give him a kiss. He returns the kiss and buckles his seatbelt at the same time. This kid is talented.

“So where are we going?” He finally asks, after you start driving.

“Well obviously we can’t get drunk in your dorm, or at your dad’s house, and my house is off limits because I think Bro would be able to hear a bottle of vodka open in his house from a million miles away at least, so I figured we could go to that one treehouse we used to play in when we were little.” He looks at you with a funny expression. “What?”

“You wanna get drunk… in a treehouse?”

“Why the fuck not, dude. It’ll be all kinds of romantic, as long as one of us doesn’t fall out. But don’t worry bro, if you fall I’ll catch you.” That earns you the signature Egbert eye-roll. You laugh and turn you attention back to the road. You weren’t gonna admit it but this kid was gonna be the death of you someday, the way he got you all distracted while driving. But man, you guess it wasn’t his fault he was so damn cute.

The treehouse looks pretty much the same as it did when you were kids, you note when you pull up. John looks a little wry, but hopefully that’ll soon change. You packed everything you intended to take up in a little red cooler you kept in your trunk and made the voyage up. (It was harder than it sounds, that cooler was awkward as fuck to get up there.)

“Well,” You poured a drink for yourself and then John. He took it, even though you can bet every fiber of his being was telling him how illegal this was, “Bottoms up.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **YO. there is a blowjob happening in this chapter.** i upped the like rating thing because of it, but i thought i'd put a little thing here so you know, this is no longer family friendly lol.  
>  also!!!  
> big thanks, like super mega huge thanks, to my girlfriend who helped me write the porn for this chapter because i can't write porn. so yeah, check her out at striders.tumblr.com  
> she like doesnt actively post porn but shes a good writer and idk?????

Holy _shit_ , John was a lightweight, sure you were buzzing already but John was full on hammered after… three? four? mixed drinks. You weren’t 100% sure, you didn’t add much vodka to the first two, but you know after he started feeling it he asked for more. You obliged. Point being, John couldn’t handle his liquor like his old man. You’d seen ol’ Dadbert top off six or seven glasses of wine without getting so much as the hiccups, John on the other hand was working on his sixth drink, this one he made himself. You’re pretty sure he put more vodka than orange just because he makes a face every time he takes a sip.

And yeah, he’s sipping now. You took the straw after he started to get wobbly. You wanted him drunk not dead. He’s lazily laying his head on your shoulder humming something. You think it’s cute. He sits up and looks at you for a second before platting a kiss on your lips.

Woah, okay, unexpected. Oh hello, this isn’t a normal kiss. John appears to be initiating make-outs. Within a few seconds he’s turned himself to be facing you, fully straddling your lap with his hands on your shoulders. He stops for a split second and you open your mouth to ask what he’s doing but he closes the gap again causing muffled humming noises to come from you instead. Talking and kissing at the same time can’t be done. Well maybe it can, but probably not when another person has their tongue in your mouth.

His hands run down from your shoulders to your chest, he’s putting very light pressure but holy shit it’s turning you on. And then he touches your stomach and you get a little squirmy. You can practically feel him smirk into the kiss when your back bends at his touch. Oh dear God, he’s drunk, you can’t let him lose his virginity while drunk. Uh, well you assume he’s a virrrrg-oh my God. He’s running his hands up under your shirt now. Sure, he’s done that before but not so… so… intense? He’s laying it on hard. _Literally._

Was this really the time for a boner joke?

Woah, hang on. John was up to something. His hands were working their way back down your stomach, he dragged his nails lightly which made chills run up your spine. It took all the effort in the world not to arch your back out of pleasure.

John stopped kissing you long enough to reach down towards your belt buckle. He had it halfway undone when you grabbed his wrist, breathing heavily. "You're sure you wanna do this?" Your voice was a lot shakier than you wanted it to be, he nodded.

"Yeah, 'course." He finished undoing your belt and started to work on your zipper.

"I mean - You - You wanna have sex, in the treehouse?" Smooth.

He stopped for a minute and considered, normally you would’ve taken the time to appreciate the adorable face he made while doing so, but you were a tad preoccupied. "Well, I mean, not like, sex-sex. You need, like, lube and stuff for that."

"Oh. Well, uh. I don't - I've never, uh.." Your face was so fucking red, god, you were so embarrassed. John just smiled, not like an innocent happy smile, like a twisted kind of ‘I’ve got you where I want you’ smile. And to think when this night started you were sure you’d be the one in control.

"Dude, don't worry, I got this." With the zipper out of the way he was free to put his hand was inside your pants, and he did, and you tried to disguise your gasp as a particularly enthusiastic breath. In retrospect, that probably didn't work out so well. His fingers wrapped around you, and - _oh._ That was nice. That was really, really nice. "Is this okay?" He almost whispered, and you nodded shakily. You thought you saw him smirk (again), but you weren't sure, because a second later he leaned forward to kiss your neck.

Moments later, his hand stopped, and you tried to hide your dismay until he sat up and murmured in your ear. "Can I try something?" He kissed your jaw while he was there, and you bit your lip and nodded again, not trusting yourself to talk. Suddenly, John was off of your lap, and you blinked, looking down to see his face inches away from your crotch. Oh. Oh god.

Before you could voice your surprise, he dragged his tongue over the head of your dick, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from waking up the neighborhood with the frankly humiliating noise you made. Satisfied, John grinned up at you before he took the rest of you into his mouth.

Embarrassingly enough, your first blowjob didn't last very long. The combination of alcohol and your virginity left you in no position to, uh, hold your load, so to say, and within five or so minutes, your hips bucked forward and your vision went white as you came into John's mouth.

A couple of moments passed before he sat up and wiped his lips, smiling at you. "So?" You blinked, clearing your head, before squinting at him.

"Did you just -?"

"Yep." He just kept smiling.

"You swallowed that?" He didn't even make a face or gag when he did it.

"Uh-huh." Jesus, that was hot. Your eyes stayed narrowed suspiciously as you tucked yourself back into your pants.

"When the hell did you learn how to do that?" John's smile turned into a smirk, and he sat back, picking up his plastic cup and finishing whatever was left of it.

"Remember that summer I went to Spain?" You nod. "You were learning how to do shots and cure hangovers... I was honing other skills."

 


	15. Chapter 15

You were a little too drunk to tell over the phone, but you were pretty sure John was crying. He was crying and apologizing. His words were swimming through your head and honestly, you probably didn’t hear all of them. The mix of alcohol and overwhelming emotion was making it hard to focus. This whole time, all day, you thought he left because he didn’t love you, because he wanted somebody better. That wasn’t it at all.

John walked out because he did love you. He didn’t want you to be held responsible for all his debts and burdens. It was sweet in an only-John-would-worry-about-that kind of way. He told you he’d been fighting urges to call you and tell you from the start, to just buy a plane ticket back and marry you as planned. But he didn’t, because he was scared. Not to marry you, but for you. He was scared you’d end up changing your mind, wanting something different, regretting it all, and he’d be the one causing it. He wanted more than anything to make sure he didn’t make you unhappy.

It made you smile a little actually, the entire time you were growing up John was always the one calling _you_ the drama queen, but when it got down to it, the biggest possible moment in both of your lives, John was the one wearing the crown. You, of course, meant that in the nicest way possible. Oh shit, he stopped talking.

What did he say? Fuck.

“Huh?” You slur. Oh yeah, the alcohol is definitely playing a part here.

“I asked,” His voice got tight, “If you, um, still wanted to marry… me.” Ouch. He thought you didn’t want to marry him now. Really though, all negative thoughts you had today aside, you were pretty certain you wanted to marry him more. Like there level at which you wanted to marry him was already pretty damn high, now it was like higher? Fuck, you don’t know, you’re too drunk to form thoughts that make sense.

“Well, yeah, of course…” You stop for a second to find the words, they were stuck on the end of your tongue – again because you were wasted. “Of _course_ I want to marry you! John, you’re like the coolest person I know and I love you, and yeah you kind of disappeared the night before we were supposed to get married, but you thought what you were doing was right. And that’s nice. You’re nice. I love you.” He’s silent, aside from a few sobs. He must’ve really been beating himself up today. “Hey hey heyyy, don’t do that. It’s fine, John. It’s okay. You can come back and we can get married, or not, I’m not gonna like HATE you if you don’t wanna tie the metaphorical knot. It’s cool with me. I just want you to know I wouldn’t care if you had a bajillion dollars in debt and shit I’d still wanna put a ring on your finger cuz like, I loved you before you had student loan bills and I definitely love you after. That’s right now. And the foreseeable future. And the future after that.” For a second you think you hear a small breathy laugh from the other end of the phone. “Ay!!!!” You toss your free hand up, “There’s that laugh I know and love.”

“Dave are you drunk?” He finally says.

You hold your tongue for a moment, considering your reply. “Nnnnnnooo.” Perfect. A long drawn out no will definitely seem completely and totally honest. Nothing conspicuous here. Nope.

He laughs again, “You are.”

“Am not!” You protest. “I just happened to uh,” You squint your eyes while thinking of an excuse. You were definitely drunk, John wasn’t stupid, but you wanted to make him laugh. Finally, you shake your head. Your brain isn’t working hard enough to find a good excuse right now. “I got nothing.”

“Go to sleep.” Another laugh, “We can talk tomorrow before my flight leaves.”

“But Jooooohn, I wanna talk to you.” You whine.

“You talk to me all the time, Dave. You’re off your rocker, you need some sleep. Other words, tomorrow you’re going to be hung over, and I don’t wanna marry somebody who smells like vomit and whiskey.”

“Spoilsport.” You grumble.

“Bed.”

“Fine fine, I’m going. I’ll call you tomorrow, John. I expect you to answer. No more cold feet.” You’re trying to talk serious but in your head, and probably out your mouth, you don’t sound serious at all. You just sound confused and drunk.

“I’ll answer, then I’ll get on the next plane there, then I’ll marry you.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You nod. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Dave.”

“Love you.”

He hangs up.

You fall backwards onto the bed and press the palms of your hands into your eyes and let out a long sigh. You were so so so so so _so so so **so so so**_ relieved he called you. So relieved he didn’t hate you. So relieved he actually loved you enough, that against all things that made sense, he actually left you thinking he was doing it for you. So much relief. Relief was just pouring out of you. You were like an antacid commercial, relief relief relief. That was a kind of weird simile, but you get the idea.

You must’ve fallen asleep after you laid on the bed because next thing you know the sun is shining through the window and you have a killer headache. You roll out of bed – literally roll – right onto the floor, landing on your hands and knees. You stumble to your feet which makes you feel a little sick, like riding a fast ride at the fair. Finally on your feet, you waltz as coolly as possible (meaning you stagger as best you can) into the bathroom. Time for the coldest shower you could ever imagine. Perfect hangover cure, aside from it being really cold.

The nice thing about a cold shower, though, is no sticky steam when you get out. You dry yourself off, throw on some pants, and lounge around in the hotel room for about an hour before finally calling John. He answers pretty quickly, there’s lots of background noise, too.

“Hey, what’s up?” Great conversation starter. A+ Strider.

“Not much,” He sounds kind of winded. “Just got through security, fighting my way through a crowd now.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“So exciting, you have no idea.” You can’t see him, but you imagine he’s probably got his head tilted holding the phone between his shoulder and ear while trying to maneuver through the crowd. It’s a really cute mental image. He’s a really cute person.

“So you’ll be here soon then?”

“Yep, the flight leaves in just over an hour and it’s uh few hours from here to there.”

“Cool, cool. I’ll let you go then, so walking through the masses is easier.”

“So considerate.” He laughs.

“I know, I’m just the best.” You also laugh. “Anyway, see you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too, I’ll call you when I land.”

“Alright.” You hang up.

For some reason your stomach was in knots. You’d been away from John before, but never under these circumstances, you were actually nervous to see him. Although he reassured over and over he didn’t hate you, a little part of you had its doubts.

You shook your head a little to push the thoughts away and lay back on the bed. You were nervous, but also really excited. After everything that happened, seeing John would be refreshing. Sure, you’d just seen him two days ago, but this situation felt entirely different.

A little more than an hour later John called again.

“Hello?” You answer lazily.

“I’m boarding now.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm......


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i'm not gonna lie here, this chapter is purely for my own satisfaction. back when i wrote the chapter of them being eight, my girlfriend gave me an idea of how they really became friends after they met, and finally the idea ate me alive so i wrote it, and i'm just shoehorning it in here because i really liked writing from the pov of an eight year old. idk about you guys but when i was a kid we always played pretend, not like the kids in this do, but our own version. and it just makes me feel kinda like a kid again having to use my imagination to make shit up from an eight year olds point of view, so yeah. consider this like the filler chapter or something.

Saving Terezi went a lot smoother than expected, especially since Dave joined your group. He was really good at playing pretend. You’d only ever talked to him at recess since meeting him, he was a nice kid. He was funny and you liked some of the same stuff, from what you could tell based of periods of time when you weren’t fighting Eridan’s army.

Karkat decided Dave would be the knight solely in charge of protecting you, you insisted you could protect yourself but Karkat wouldn’t hear it. Dave was a pretty good protector, too. He was kind of rude and didn’t talk much, and when he did he had a funny sort of accent. One you weren’t used to hearing. One recess Karkat sat everybody down and you all made up a backstory for Dave in your pretend game.

He was a knight from the far away land of Texas, banished by the King on suspicions of treason. (Terezi said that meant when somebody went against their country, it’s a good thing she was smart about law stuff or you guys might just have the worst run kingdom ever.) Anyway, Dave was framed, but it was too late, Dave’s and his brother, who wasn’t really involved with your pretend game but you guys acknowledged his existence anyway, were exiled and forbade from ever returning to Texas.

After that, Dave became a wandering knight; he stumbled across the great witch, Jade. She brought him to Karkat in search of her distant cousin, that’s you. (You were really her direct cousin, but that doesn’t matter.) When Karkat told her you and the queen had been kidnapped by a traitor the fight was on. Dave and Jade set out to rescue you, they lost Terezi in the valley of dragons along the way, but you rescued her soon enough. Ever since, Dave had been in charge of protecting you.

Recess just started, you were pretty excited. You had a big mission today. Dave and you were going to infiltrate Eridan’s castle in search of a missing piece to a map that could seriously change the way this war was going. You knew exactly where the piece was because Eridan’s castle used to be yours, but he took it. He and Equius Zahhak, a fifth grader who was bigger than all of you. Sollux Captor, a warrior who used to fight on your side, turned out to be a double agent, now stood guard at the foot of the castle.

“It looks like they got more security since the last time,” Dave whispered. You were hiding behind a tree not far from the location of the castle. The guards wouldn’t attack until you stepped foot onto the woodchips, but it was better safe than sorry.

“Well, you did re-kidnap the prince and queen from them.” You remind him.

“Yeah, so then they don’t have anything to guard right?”

“Right.” You nod.

He points to the jungle gym, “Then what are they guarding?” Oh. Huh, that was weird. Eridan did have a lot of kids patrolling the castle and standing guard. “They’ll recognize me as an agent of Prospit now, we had the upper hand last time because they didn’t know me.”

Prospit was the name of your kingdom. Karkat named it, if you’d have had your choice it probably would’ve been something waaaay cooler. Like Ecto Ghost World of the Undead. Yeah. That’s cool. Derse was what Karkat called all the land Eridan claimed, but you never actually heard Eridan call it that. Actually come to think of it, you never really spoke to Eridan. You kind of just got sucked into this whole game of pretend without knowing the kid. He said a few things to you when he captured you, and from what you could tell he was kind of rude. You’re pretty glad you got in with the good guys in this war.

“So what do we do?” You ask Dave after a few minutes of silence.

He thought for a moment, “Let’s go in together.”

“Why?”

“Well, in movies they always split up and bad stuff happens, so if we go in together nothing bad can happen right?” You can’t beat that logic. “We’ll just charge in like a couple of crazy people!”

“That’s a horrible idea.” You deadpan. “I love it.”

He smirks, he does that a lot. It’s weird, why can’t he just smile normal. He’s a weird kid. “Alright then, let’s go.” He stands up and starts running to the castle, you follow suit.

You’re both screaming like mad and flailing your arms while running towards Sollux, he panics and dives out of the way, clearing a path for you to take the castle by storm. You dart up the stairs and Dave is quick to follow, you get to the highest point of the castle. (The octagonal bit with the cone top and the curly slide.) Eridan isn’t there. You and Dave both freeze and look around, kind of confused.

“Attack!!!!!!” You hear from below the castle. Oh crap.

“It was a trap!” Dave says, assuming fighting stance. This is probably the point where you started panicking.

Children are running up every entrance to the play equipment, Eridan is with them. He ignores Dave and immediately directs his attention to you. You don’t have time to get out of the curly-slide-castle-topper thing before he starts walking towards you. You swallow hard; you’re backed into a corner. Behind you is a door leading to an unknown abyss, the darkness of the chute of death. Only the baddest of bad criminals got sent here when you ran this castle.

You look over your shoulder as you near the edge of the slide. This was it, you were gonna die. Eridan kept getting closer.

“Well well well,” He grinned. “What do we have here? The prince? Couldn’t stay away, could you? I bet you came for this.” He holds up a bit of a McDonald’s happy meal box with a badly drawn map on it. You gulp and nod. He waggles his finger and shakes his head. “Tsk. Tsk. It looks like you’re about to take a ride down the chute of death, you won’t have time for this.”

You have never felt so terrified in your entire life, this was like some cruel twist of fate and Eridan was pulling the strings. You start breathing a little heavier because the excitement of the situation was getting to you, and breathing heavy is never good. Especially during allergy season.

Oh woah, hang on. Okay you’re having an asthma attack, or the beginnings of one anyway. What timing.

“H-hang on!” You shout, trying to dig your inhaler out of your pocket and fumble with it for a second.

Eridan shakes his head and keeps walking closer. What a mean kid, at least wait until its fair play again, ugh. The way he’s staring at you though, you know all he sees is opportunity; he gets right up next to you as you’re finally catching your breath. He braces himself and prepares to push.

He was literally going to push you down the slide in the middle of an asthma attack. If you were allowed to say bad words you’d probably say something along the lines of “What a fucking dickhead.” But you’re not, so you don’t say that.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Right as Eridan is about to push you somebody shouts his name from behind. Eridan turns annnnnd…..

**BAM!**

Dave punches him square in the face. Both of Eridan’s hands fly up to his nose and he falls to his knees. You edge around the perimeter of the octagon thing you’re standing in and take position next to Dave. Eridan looks like he’s going to cry. Serves him right, gonna push a kid during an asthma attack. Dave turns to you and looks you up and down, “You okay?” He asks, you nod. “Good.” He redirects his attention back to Eridan, “Don’t be such a dick next time.” You’re not even going to point out that Dave just said a bad word because holy shit that was cool. Dave then grabs your hand and drags you down the slide with him.

Turns out the chute of death just led outside of the castle. Who knew?

“But what about the map?” You question as the two of you walk away.

Dave smirks and pulls something out of his pocket, “Oh, you mean this map?”

You were pretty sure today was the beginning of a really awesome new friendship.


	17. Chapter 17

You’d always been a nervous flyer, ever since you were a kid. So, of course, you were nervous now. You traveled a lot when you were younger, especially when your mom was still around, every summer you’d go to Spain with her, you and Jane. Dad opted out usually; because he kind of sucked at Spanish and you’re pretty sure your abuelita hated him. Since your mom died though, you’d only traveled a couple times. Once to Spain with your dad when you were sixteen, that was an adventure, and once to Nebraska to meet your grandpa on your dad’s side. You were like twelve then.

You actually didn’t even know your dad had parents, you kind of just assumed he was like some kind of lone ranger. Turns out he just wasn’t on very good standing with his dad. Some incident with baking and a factory before you were born? Apparently it had to do with your grandma’s death? Really you didn’t care, you didn’t know the man claiming to be your grandpa and you didn’t know you nanna either.

Anyway, back on track, point is, you were no stranger to flying, but it still scared you. Flying was supposedly the safest way to travel, but every time there was a plane crash it was on the news – you knew it was probably because plane crashes were actually pretty rare, but you were still scared. You immediately laid your head back and closed your eyes once you sat down. Probably why you just got so sidetracked thinking about your mom and grandmas and stuff, your mind wanders when you’re not fully aware of your surroundings. That was the plan though; try your hardest to forget you were on a plane.

It worked because you dozed off and the next thing you remember is the ping of the buckle seatbelt sign when you were about to land. You blink the sleep from your eyes and yawn a little, God you wish you were still asleep. Landing is your least favourite part, it makes you queasy and one time you had a very poorly timed asthma attack during landing.

That one was easily the worst plane ride. Ever.

But hey, you made it. You survived. Dave was probably anxiously waiting for you at the airport.

Oh fuck.

Dave. Shit, you couldn’t face him; you just _left him before your wedding._

No but you have to, the entire reason you left is because you thought you couldn’t face something with him. You have to stop making decisions by yourself! This is a team effort, John. You might think what you want to do is what’s right, what’s good for Dave, but as we’ve learned from your previous adventure, it isn’t. In fact it’s totally opposite.

So take a chill pill.

Breathe a little.

There you go. Calm down.

Thanks to the weird bossy voice in your head, you efficiently calm down. It’ll be fine. Dave will be fine. You will be fine. Everyone will be fine. You will get married and be happy and Dave and you will be in love forever and ever and everything will be perfect and- wooooah shit.

You clutch your armrests and your heart races a little, for a brief moment your brain tells you the plane is going to crash, but thankfully you’re not stupid. It’s just the weird bumpy part before landing. It’s like turbulence but more aggressive. You don’t like it. But as we’ve discussed, you don’t like flying at all. It’s a necessary evil.

Needless to say, the plane lands. Everyone lives. No tragic endings here. So far. You get off the plane and call Dave.

“I’m at the airport.”

“Me too.” He hums. “Where are you?”

“My gate, you?”

“Burger King.” You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Wanna meet me here; I’m in the middle of eating.”

“Sure, be there in a minute.” You end the call and pocket your phone.

Burger King is outside of the secure area, so if you wanted to go back now you couldn’t. Though, you don’t know why you would want to go back. Oh wait, yes you do. You’re nervous. Dave’s not acting like it but you still think he’s probably pissed. You’d be pissed. Or sad. Or both. I mean, after what you did? This boy must really love you to be completely okay. It’s a little unsettling actually, like, he swears up and down he’s fine but _is he?_

You shake your head and blink a few times while walking. Sort of like saying, “shut up brain” but more aggressively. So more like, “brain if you don’t shut up I will shake your home, that being my head.” It works, your brain shuts up. Well, the part telling you all sorts of negative things about the situation you’re in.

The corridor with restaurants outside of the secure area is HUGE. (Not as big as inside the secure area, but still pretty damn big.) You scan the signs above each one until you see Burger King. Luckily all you took with you was a couple pairs of clothes or it would be really cumbersome maneuvering a suitcase around all these damn chairs. You just had a shoulder bag.

You spot Dave alone at a table in the corner. His back is turned to you and all of the sudden the negative thoughts hit you again. The worry and doubt and all those wonderful things that have been building up in you since you left the night before last. You breathe in heavily through your nose and continue walking. Don’t cop out now, Egbert.

Dave jumps a little when you tap him on the shoulder, but when he realizes who you are he practically flies out of the chair and wraps his arms around you. The entire excited gesture was finished with a very sloppy quick kiss, which you’re glad for, you didn’t want to kiss Dave for very long because he always takes his burgers with extra onions.

When the hug is finished though, you both kind of stand there awkwardly. You feeling guilty and him probably scared to touch you or scare you away again. After a few beats of silence you clear your throat and sit down across from where he was sitting. He joins you and so does more silence.

God you felt like shit.

“So,” He finally says, “Still wanna get married?”

You crack a smile and laugh a little. “Right here?”

“Yes John, right here. In Burger King. We will form the holiest of matrimonies. May these French fries be our witness,” He gestures to his tray.

“It sounds romantic.”

“Oh, it will be.” You both laugh. The conversation carries on and you slowly ease back into normal, well what you can get of normal after what happened. Your stomach is still in knots and even though you’re joking and laughing and smiling with Dave like nothing happened, you still feel guilty as fuck.

When he’s finally done eating you both leave the airport and go back to your hotel. He’s apparently already told everyone you’re back and the wedding is on. Lucky you decided to get married in an aquarium rather than some really popular public venue, because if that had been the case, your actions would’ve caused you to have to reschedule entirely.

You and Dave spend the rest of the night talking and working things out, he reassures you over and over that he loves you and he doesn’t care if you’re in debt and, that against everything your subconscious tell you, he isn’t going to leave you. Things aren’t quite normal yet, mostly because you’re both sitting on top of some leftover emotions, but for the most part he’s talked you down.

He crawls into bed next to you and kisses you goodnight. You return the kiss and turn off the lamp on the bedside table. The room falls dark and your head starts spinning again. You ignore it.

Your name is John Egbert and you guess you’re getting married tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm contemplating continuing this past the wedding, to their honey moon, married life, first house, maybe adopting a child??? idk. i think it would be nice to actually write them from a happy standpoint. i mean the flashbacks were kind of happy but they were induced under sad circumstances so haha


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wedding bells chime in the distance

Rose was furiously smoothing the wrinkles of out your tux jacket, at the same time you were _trying_ to tame your hair. “Honestly Dave,” She frowns. “I can’t believe you’re late to your own wedding.”

“You can’t?” You raise an eyebrow and question, jokingly.

She rolls her eyes, “You’re right, I can believe it.”

You smile at her correction; she quickly finishes smoothing out the wrinkles in your suit and moves out of the way so you can fully see into the mirror. “God damn,” You start, “I look fine as hell.” You straighten your tie and run a hand through your (barely tamed) hair.

“You’re welcome.” She smirks from her position behind you, “Now if you’re done admiring yourself, we really should go?”

“Right, right.” You mumble and follow her out the door.

Okay so, you may have woken up a bit late. Like, late enough that John was already gone. For a brief moment you panicked, fully thinking he’d left again, but a quick call to Rose proved otherwise. Apparently John did wake you up, or at least try to, before leaving. You must’ve been passed the fuck out because you don’t remember it at all.

When you called her, Rose said John was already half ready. “Fuuuuck me,” You groaned into the phone. She laughed and pretty much immediately came to your hotel room where the two of you pulled off probably the most amazing thirty minute makeover in your entire lives.

And now we are here. Well, you are here. In the car with Rose, she’s driving, and you’re glad for that. You’re a bit too nervous to get behind the wheel. Your stomach is full of butterflies as you pull into the aquarium parking lot. You were marrying John in…

You look at the clock on the dashboard.

You were supposed to marry John fifteen minutes ago. Whoops. Oh well, you’re sure he would understand. Well you hoped; he did know you woke up late, apparently Rose told him. When Rose puts the car in park you can feel your heart start racing, this is it. You were actually going to do this.

“Oh God I can’t do it, Rose.” You choke.

She rolls her eyes and practically pulls you out of the car, “We are not doing that again.” She bends in front of you and does one last wrinkle-sweep before nodding in approval. “Get in there and marry John already.”

You inhale deeply through your nose and exhale through your mouth, then nod. “Alright.”

The walk up to the front doors was probably the longest, most anxiety inducing, walk you’d ever experienced. Like, if there were a scale of really short walks that actually seemed long and it was ranked from 1 to 10, you’d probably rate this at somewhere around a 28. Give or take a number or two.

Point is the nerves hit you like a pile of bricks. Your stomach is doing flips and at this point even the cool air conditioning inside the building couldn’t calm you down. Rose pulled up her phone beside you and dialed a number. She waited a moment once it was up to her ear and then smiled, “We’re here.” That was it. She hung up after that.

Thanks Rose. Thanks a lot. That didn’t just make you freak out even more. Nope, Rose’s cool totally calm attitude is totally helping the situation and you are totally cool too. Cool as a cucumber. Cool as a.. cool as a… fuck. You were so not cool.

During wedding planning you decided John would play the part of the traditional bride (with an incredibly homosexual twist of course) – for two reasons. He was shorter, and also he still had a dad who could totally give him away. Okay, ‘give him away’ is a weird way of looking at the situation. John’s dad didn’t own him but he was like… You know what, you get the point. Stop thinking, you’re just making yourself more nervous.

Right, okay. So you follow Rose.

There aren’t too many people there, only family and close friends. A few of John’s relatives you’d never met, you could tell they were his relatives mostly because they were in the wedding crowd and they kind of looked like John. Their skin was a bit darker though, like Jane’s. It was endearing to finally see his family, you knew he came from a cultured background, but you never actually met his family. Mostly because airfare was ex-pen- _sive_. (Especially international airfare.) It gave you kind of a sense of relief, when you saw them. Like hey, these people are all here expecting to see their little Johnny-boy happily married. Can’t disappoint.

Where were you, though? Oh yeah. The people who showed up. Let’s see. Rose, Jade, Bro, John’s family, John’s dad and sister (technically they could be grouped with John’s family but whatever), Karkat, Terezi, Vriska. You noticed a lack of Tavros but chalked it up to him being unable to attend.

Amidst all your thinking about who showed up to see you spend a few minutes ‘bonding’ your life to somebody else’s, you didn’t even realize you were already standing at the spot where you were gonna be married. Rose was beside you, dazzling as ever. She was your best man. And a damn good one if you do say so yourself.

Karkat stood opposite, he’d been given the position for John and –

Oh God, the music was starting. (It wasn’t the wedding march, because fuck that. John insisted you use the Ghostbuster’s theme, but since Rose was pretty much in charge of planning this entire wedding she refused. Personally you would’ve found it hilarious if John danced down the… isle?? Aquarium hallway??? To the Ghostbuster’s theme. He then suggested that one song from Con Air that you totally did not know the name or words to, in fact you’d never listened to it in your entire life. That’s really all there is to say on the matter.)

Here come the butterflies.

You’d rehearsed this like 1,000 times but now that it was actually happening you had no idea what to do, you didn’t want to fuck up and –

Rose nudged your shoulder slightly when you were supposed to turn around and oh fuck, there’s John.

Daaaaaaamn, Egbert cleans up nice.

He was donning a white tuxedo, contrasting your black one, with cobalt blue accents. The only reason he went with white and blue is because you begged him to entertain the age old tradition, “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue” purely for irony’s sake. And he did not disappoint. He made the loveliest bride, and you couldn’t wait to marry him.

His cheeks were tinted red and they stood out against the white fabric he was wearing. Your heart was melting he was so cute and oh shit he’s next to you now. You clear your throat and give him kind of a small nod; he smiles and rolls his eyes. If it were up to him you guys probably would’ve just had some closed ceremony in a courthouse or something, but God, you couldn’t let him waste this opportunity. You were a sucker for tradition, ironic or not. Although, John did pick a pretty weird venue, you couldn’t complain. All these fish had probably never seen a human wedding before; this was totally educational on the fish’s parts.

And by this point, you kind of feel numb all over. Numb and… tingly? Does that even make sense. You were so excited and nervous and happy and scared and probably like twelve other emotions all at this exact moment and –

You’re cut off again. That keeps happening.

“I now pronounce you husband and husband.”

That was probably the corniest way anyone could’ve ever said that line, ever in your entire life. You didn’t have time to laugh, though, because before you knew it John was kissing you. Sealing the deal forever.

You’re the first one to stop kissing and you kind of just lay your forehead on his, the both of you smiling like a couple of little kids. “Now you’re stuck with me forever, Egbert.”

He thinks for a moment then quickly kisses you again, “I think I can live with that.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is even said when two guys tie the knot?? i now pronounce you husband and husband? oh well.  
> 
> 
> also, while you're here. this ain't over yet. well it could be, this would be a nice ending if you're into sickly sweet cliche endings, if not then stick around because i'll be adding bonus chapters, i guess. married life here we come. 
> 
> also also, on the topic of bonus chapters, i am starting another thing, but i don't know if it's going to turn into anyway, and again they're bonus, so like not set in stone that they'll be added, well i know one will im half done with it, and i've got ideas for more, so yeah!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus chapter 1: ¿hablas español?

Anywhere in the world, Dave could’ve picked for your honeymoon. Anywhere. He could’ve chose Hawaii or Cancun, but instead he chose the one place you’d been so often that you might as well have lived there as a child. _Spain_. He said it would be “good” to see your family, especially since most of them couldn’t attend your wedding. You thought he was full of shit because who wants to see their family or in-laws on their _honeymoon?_ Well, apparently Dave. (You didn’t say anything to him about this, but you’re pretty sure he only wanted to come here because he finds it incredibly hot when you speak Spanish.)

The two of you have just exited the airport. He’s kind of just staring around, taking it all in. You’re not as impressed. This is a familiar place for you, so it’s kind of like, uh, say you went to the same place on a field trip for school every year, but then stopped. A few years later you go back, but with your family or something, that’s sort of how this felt. You loved Spain, sure, your family was here and your mom was from here, it’s not like you hated it. But it was familiar. You suppose you don’t mind though, when you look over at Dave who’s grinning like an idiot. He seems to be happy, and you’re glad of that.

“So, shall we go?” You ask, pulling him out of his amazement. He blinks and nods. You raise both eyebrows at him and smile.

“Where are we going?” He questions.

“Well, I figured to get some food then our hotel?” You shrug.

“Sounds like a plan.”

You whistle for a taxi and one pulls up relatively quickly. You ask the driver if your favourite restaurant is still in business, he says he’s never heard of it. You frown and then just ask him to take you to a good place to eat, he happily obliges.

Dave and you had quite a bit of luggage so you had it delivered to your hotel instead of fighting to haul it around town, it made going out to eat so much easier.

The cab driver dropped you off at a tiny café in what you recognized as the downtown district. It smelled good, let’s hope the taste was good too. You hold the door for Dave and pick a small table for the two of you to sit at. A few minutes later a young man, probably 18 or 19 comes to your table with a pen and pad in hand.

“¿Qué puedo hacer por tu?” You glance at Dave, and he stares at you expectantly. He was getting sick sick enjoyment out of this, but you knew how to turn it around.

“Uh,” You stammer and with the most broken sounding Spanish you can manage, you add, “Yo no hablo Español.”

The boy looks at you suspiciously and then looks to Dave, now expecting him to understand. Dave looks at you, very _very_ confused and you smirk. “What did you do?” He hisses.

“I told him I can’t speak Spanish.” You laugh.

“John you dick, tell him the truth.” He kicks you under the table, and looks up at the waiter with an awkward sort of smile.

“Alright, alright,” You groan and roll your eyes, “Sólo estaba bromeando, vamos a tener dos coca-colas y hamburguesas, por favor.” The waiter laughs, and you think he understands why you said you couldn’t speak Spanish.

“Él no sabe Español, ¿verdad?” You laugh and nod, Dave’s face is very red by this point. Sufficient payback for the weird enjoyment he gets out of hearing you speak another language. “Voy a tener tu comida  pronto.” He says, and walks away. You felt a little bad for coming into a local café and just ordering a burger, like how much more American can you get? But you were hungry and you didn’t want to wait for fancy food.

Dave is still stewing in his own embarrassment; you think it’s pretty damn adorable. You gentle kick his ankle under the table and place your chin onto your hand and you elbow onto the table, the biggest shit eating grin plastered on your face.

“Oh shut up.”

“Pensé que te gustaba cuando yo hablaba español, Dave?” That quickly earned you the finger from the other end of the table and you grinned. Maybe you could make this honeymoon work in your favor after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next one might take a little longer to pump out because this one was mainly to satisfy my headcanon that john speaks spanish, and also i'm a little empty on ideas for this particular fic right now AND i've started my next.. thing...??? yep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus chapter 2: house hunters

Married life wasn’t all too exciting, or different from before, actually. Just now, you and Dave shared a last name. He wanted to hyphenate because he thought that’s what you wanted, you told him it was fine and you were more than happy to get rid of your dumb last name. He then proceeded to make probably 100 jokes about how for the last 18 years that he’s known you he thought your last name was ridiculous. You agreed.

So now, here you are. Almost 27. You and Dave have been house hunting for months now, you got a job as a biology teacher – years of college studying marine biology and this was the best you could get, fuck the system dude. Dave, however, had a way better job. He was DJing a local night club, and what you make in one week, Dave could bank in a weekend. The two of you were pretty well off, especially with some of the savings from before you got married – which at this point feels like forever ago, but it’s only been a couple years.

You still had your student loans, it would take another few years to clear those up, but they weren’t as much of a burden as you originally thought they were going to be. A few months ago, Christmas if you remember right, Dave mentioned wanting to get out of the apartment you were living in. You asked how he planned to do it; he shrugged and told you it was time to look for a house. You were kind of skeptical at first, but once you started looking at listings and paying attention to pricing you fell into the groove of it.

The budget was just over 200,000 dollars, with the loan Dave took out. Together, you’d saved up roughly $15,000, not nearly enough for a house so you left it for bills/spending/etc. You insisted you didn’t need so much money for a house, Dave said you did. He said that if this was going to be where you lived for the rest of your lives (and raised kids, which made your heart pound), then you were going to splurge a little. You finally gave in and quickly fell into the habit of keeping an eye out for available houses.

Currently, Dave and you are attending an open house. It’s a decent sized three bedroom country-style house. One that you might see in a movie, with the nice looking driveway and garage, wooden door with an oval glass window. Well, this one just had a plain door, but you get the idea. In fact, you get the idea so much that you love it before you even go inside.

It has cream carpeting and white walls, a visible staircase the minute you open the front door, and a small hallway breaking off into a few rooms on the main floor. The living room is on the left, the first floor (half)bathroom behind it, a door leading to it from both the living room and hallway. Another living room like area is on the right, only this one with a fireplace, probably intended to be the dining room, considering the kitchen could be seen from it. The kitchen had a large curved archway leading into the dining room and and a smaller square one coming from the hallway.

This could easily be described as one of the nicest kitchens you’d ever seen. It was modernized, light grey, white, and black accents, chrome faucets and handles, polish wood cabinets and some kind of laminated rock countertop. You were starting to think this house was worth way more than it was being sold for, maybe somebody died in here. That’s creepy, don’t think that. Plus, if somebody did die here they’d have to tell you and they haven’t said anything. From the kitchen, and the area of the hallway behind the stairs, you could get to the back yard.

The yard was decent in size, fenced in, a few trees and bushes. Dave nudged you and mentioned it was perfect for a family. There he goes again with that. The realtor pointed out the rose bushes between the three doors leading out. (The third was from the garage.)

And finally, the upstairs. It was just as nice as the rest of the house, one doorway to a bedroom directly across the small hall area from the stairs, another a few feet to the right of it. The other two were to the right of the stairs, the first was the bathroom. The second was the master bedroom, it included a bathroom as well. You were in love.

“All of _this_ ,” You say, still in awe, to the realtor, “For 190?”

“The previous owners insisted we keep the price low.” She nods.

“Why?”

“They’re fairly wealthy people, three children of their own, all grown up and out to college, leaving the couple to travel as they please. They said they want this house to bring another family as many good memories as they got from it – a good family.” She explains. “And most good families, just starting out, don’t have a very high budget.”

“Jeez, yeah, we were actually looking at 2 bedrooms in the city much much smaller than this.” You rub the back of your head. Dave usually lets you do the talking when you’re looking at houses, because he wants you to be happy with the choice. He said he’d literally be happy living in a shoe box as long as you’re happy.

She shakes her head, “Housing prices within city limits are just nuts nowadays. You get twice the house for half the price out here.” She was referring to the area that could probably be called “suburbs”. It was a few miles outside of the city, a few houses spread out, not too close but not too far apart.

“So our offer is on the table, then.” You nod.

“So it is,” She says. “And it just so happens you’re the highest so far. The two of you seem like a nice couple, I certainly hope the price doesn’t go over your budget.”

“You aren’t the only one hoping!” You crack a cheesy grin.

She shows you out and waits for her next clients. You spend the next week anxiously waiting for a phone call, expecting bad news the entire time. “Somebody else put down an offer much larger than yours” is all you could hear repeating in your head. Over and over.

Finally, Dave got the call. He answered as he normally does, but his tone changed when he realized who he was talking to. “Okay.” “Alright.” “Yes.” “Yes.” “Thank you.” He hung up. A smile spread across his face – ear to ear.

“What?” You sit up a bit. He just keeps grinning and grinning. “What?” You say again.

“We got it.” He finally spits out.

Your eyes go wide and you sit up all the way. “We got it?!”

He nods violently, smile still glued to his lips. “We got it, John! We got the house.” And at that you practically jumped off the couch and into Dave’s arms. The two of you jumped in a circle singing “we got it we got it” for a good five minutes before finally settling down.

You got it! You got the house. God, you were so excited, all the tension you felt in your stomach for the last week melted away.

“So when can we start moving in?” Dave smirks.


End file.
